


Silver Dragon

by hazel_lannister



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-06-30 01:25:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 46,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15741294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazel_lannister/pseuds/hazel_lannister
Summary: What happens during sixth year when instead of merely stalking Harry notices some stuff is going down with Malfoy, and a tentative friendship slowly turns to something more, even on the dawn of war?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter is kind of shitty because my computer glitched so I had to rewrite it three times from scratch, each time worse than the last haha, but the rest of the story gets better I promise. Thanks for reading

"Watch where you're walking, Potter," a familiar voice drawled as Harry was shoved to the side by a huge body.

Catching himself before he could fall, he readjusted his glasses, shaking his head.

"Maybe if you and your thugs didn't take up the whole bloody hallway he wouldn't have run into you," Ron defended, pulling Harry's arm to lead him away from the group of Slytherins.

Hermione wordlessly followed after the two, concern etched on her face.

Ron was still muttering insults under his breath when the world seemed to dip under Harry’s feet and he caught on to Ron’s arm before he could fall. 

"Blimey Harry, you look awfully pale," said Ron.

"Harry," asked Hermione, "are you feeling well?"

"Yeah... guess I just didn't eat enough at breakfast or something," replied Harry, shaking his head again, trying to clear his thoughts.

"Harry, you know you have to eat enough when you have a match," Hermione said, half scolding and half worried. "Come on, let's see if there's anything left from breakfast. Then you need to get on the field."

Quickly, the trio walked towards the dining hall.

...

"Slytherin takes the lead with another goal, making the score now 230 to 220!" shouted Dean Thomas as broomsticks whizzed about and bludgers narrowly missed their riders. Harry scanned the field, hovering in the air in his search for the golden snitch. He'd been looking for a while now, but the small golden object seemed especially elusive today.

"Wow! The score is now 270 to 230! The gap is widening, and Gryffindor needs the snitch quickly if they want to come out ahead!"

The game was an especially close one, although Harry knew that Gryffindor easily would have pulled ahead had it not been for Ron's nerves. Clumsily, he had let goal after goal go past him. As much as the Gryffindor's continued to score, it was no use if the Slytherins made every goal they shot.

Suddenly, a small ball whizzed past Harry's ear, the familiar beat of wings brushing his neck with the wind they pushed. Harry reached out a hand, too late, and barely missed grabbing the snitch from its flight. He sped after it, gaining speed, but Malfoy noticed the other seeker's movements, quickly flying after the pair. Sensing Malfoy on his tail, Harry concentrated harder, yet still Malfoy gained on him, the space between the two shrinking steadily.

Eventually, they were almost neck and neck. Harry reached out an arm once more as the snitch was briefly within reach but missed it once again. Malfoy suddenly pulled back and crashed into Harry, not enough to knock him off his broom but enough to make him stumble a moment. Using this to his advantage, Malfoy attempted to shift in front.

Harry could not let this happen. Once again, the game was on his shoulders and he needed to catch the snitch quickly if he wanted the Gryffindors to snatch the victory once again. He sped in front of Malfoy once more, using all of the energy he had left and rammed into the blonde's broom before quickly snatching the snitch out of the air.

Victoriously, he held it up grinning, before he realized Malfoy had been knocked clean off his broom. Malfoy tumbled, hitting his head on the large pillar displaying the green of his house's colors. Before Harry could even think, he pulled out his wand, shouting, "Arresto momentum!"

...

"Harry you need to stop beating yourself up about this. It's a physical sport, and he wasn't terribly injured. Thanks to you..." Hermione tried to comfort, but Harry was hardly listening.

"Mione's right," Ron said, "and if you ask me, he deserves a lot worse. If the roles were reversed, he would've done the same, if not more. He and those deatheater scum."

Harry nodded, though still unconvinced. "I still shouldn't have sunk to his level. Playing dirty like that, what makes me better than him when I do shit like that?" Harry asked dejectedly. 

Hermione nodded, before placing her hand comfortingly on Harry's. Ron eyed the interaction and said nothing. "What makes you better is that you regret it afterwards, and hopefully learn from your mistakes. But feeling guilty about it and continually beating yourself up for it now isn't going to take it back. He'll be fine, and you’ll be better for it."

Harry nodded slightly. "I still think I should go see him."

"I know, Harry, but that's not going to help him, right? Mcgonagall said he was fine, I think it best we just leave him be," Hermione said, her hand giving Harry's a slight squeeze.

Harry hummed noncommittally. 

...

"Do you breathe between bites, Ronald?" Hermione asked disgustedly.

Ron rolled his eyes, his mouth too full to shoot back a retort. He reached across the table to grab another muffin, not even finished with the one on his plate.

Suddenly, a shrill voice cut into their breakfast. "Won-won!" cried Lavender Brown before seizing him from behind. Ron quickly fought to swallow the enormous bite. "You played so brilliantly yesterday! Every time you stopped the ball thing I couldn't control myself, I just kept shouting you were  _ mine _ ," she said, sitting half next to and half on top of Ron.

As she said the word mine she briefly glanced at Hermione before flipping her hair and wholeheartedly snogging Ron.

Hermione looked as if she couldn't decide if she was more angry or disgusted and pushed her plate away. The two were still obliviously going at it when Harry looked across the dining hall to the Slytherin table where he couldn't help but notice a certain blonde was not occupying. Pansy and Blaise were there yet Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

The snogging continued but Harry paid them no notice as Hermione stared down at her fingers, trying to focus on anything but the two people across the table.

Unable to stand by doing nothing any longer, Harry stood, eyes never leaving the empty Slytherin seat.

"Harry?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"I need to go see him," and with that, Harry left the hall before either of his friends could stop him.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Harry walked briskly up the stairs to the hospital wing, anticipation tightening his lungs but he urged his feet to keep moving. If he walked fast enough, the burning questions wouldn’t surface and he wouldn’t have to think about what he would say when he got there, especially if Malfoy was awake, or worse, he had company. What if he walked in and Parkinson immediately murdered him? What if Lucius was there?

Before he could talk himself out of it, Harry rushed up the final steps to the hospital wing. It was simply the guilt of having been responsible for someone's injuries that pushed him onward, it had nothing to do with who had been injured, or at least, that was what he told himself. He couldn’t live with himself knowing that he had inflicted permanent damage on a classmate, no matter how much of a prat said classmate was. 

Pausing in front of the large oak doors, Harry hesitantly held out his hand toward the handle, suddenly reconsidering the spur of the moment decision. But he knew he had to do this; he knew the feelings of guilt would not subside until he knew for certain, with his own eyes, that his rival was okay. Steeling himself briefly, Harry opened the heavy doors and quietly walked into the empty room.

Empty, that is, except for the sleeping mass in one bed that was Draco Malfoy. His breaths were slow and labored, clearly deep in sleep. The hospital was empty except for the two, and Harry had never been more grateful for the hour-long breakfast.

Hesitating for only a moment longer, Harry made his way over to the unconscious form. His footsteps seemed to echo on the stone floor, harsh in the quiet of the still room, but soon enough he found himself by Malfoy's side. Nervously, he fiddled with warm sheet next to the blonde. Malfoy shifted in position, still obviously asleep, and subconsciously seemed to outstretch his hand toward Harry's fingers. Harry looked down at the hand, paler than his own, but dexterous and strong looking.

The brunette studied the veins and fibers that wound beneath the skin, admiring how firm they appeared to be. Briefly he wondered how they would feel beneath his fingertips.

Tearing his eyes from the slender fingers, Harry looked up at the sleeping face before him, observing the pale lashes that fluttered on his cheek, the soft, flawless curve of his cheek and strong jawline. The rugged edges of his cheekbone appeared softer in sleep and Harry wanted to touch them. Malfoy was nearly unrecognizable without his characteristic sneer or glare, his brows relaxed and lips slightly parted as small puffs of breath escaped. 

Harry then noticed the bluish bruise that had form on the side of his face and reached farther into the blonde hairline, no doubt made from the crash on the pillar. Harry gnawed his lip, wondering how long it would take to heal.

So entranced was Harry by studying the other boy's features, he didn't notice the blonde's hand had continued its journey toward Harry's own fingers, and without warning, the two index fingers touched, shocking Harry out of his stupor.

Electricity seemed to pulse within Harry as he felt every nerve blaze to life by the single touch.

Harry remained perfectly still for half a moment when he sensed Malfoy stir in his sleep, finally seeming to be emerging from his unconsciousness. Harry yanked his hand back, suddenly embarrassed by what he had been doing for what had to be several minutes. How long had he been in there?

Never before had Harry been able to study Malfoy without hearing insults of every kind until they were out of earshot. He looked so... peaceful. Malfoys eyebrows pulled together and Harry was briefly reminded of a conflicted child before shaking his head, confused by his thoughts.

Malfoy? An innocent child? He was a death eater, with the more than likely purpose of bringing Harry to his master for his death.

Harry took a step away from the bed, closing himself off from his enemy. He could not be here when he woke. Malfoy would be fine and already seemed to be awakening. 

Briskly, he turned around and hastened towards the door.

...

The last thing Draco saw before he awoke were bright green eyes. The same eyes he had dreamed of since the age of eleven.

He sat up carefully, somehow aware that there was someone else was in the room, and was just able to make out the dark messy hair and Gryffindor robes as they rushed through the oak doors. What had Harry been doing in the hospital wing? And why the rush to leave him?

Draco looked around and saw nobody else in the wing with him. Had he been alone with Harry? And whom had he come to visit if not Draco? Unsure of how to interpret this new information, Draco struggled to keep his rising emotions in the back of his mind. This was neither the time nor the place.

Suddenly, fear and embarrassment constricted his throat. Had he said anything while Harry was there? He had an awful habit of talking in his sleep, what if he revealed the true nature of his feelings, something he wasn't yet ready to admit to himself, let alone Harry...

He shook his head, worried and confused. Harry always had to be the hero, even to make sure his enemy was alright.

Disgusted at the brief feeling of hope Draco had in his chest, he made a face and lied back down.

...

Harry ran down the stairs to find Ron and Hermione again. He needed a distraction from what had occurred with Malfoy, even though he could never disclose what had happened. He rushed to the dining hall to see Hermione and Ron emerging from breakfast.

"Harry!" Hermione called out happily, perhaps too happily judging from Ron's face. "You alright?" she asked seeing the grim look on his face.

Harry nodded and tried a half smile but failed miserably.

"What's wrong, did Malfoy say something? Is he alright?"

"Yes, Hermione, he's fine. Guess I'm just tired. And guilty," he responded.

"Oh, Harry, you know he would've done the same in your shoes. Probably worse, being on Voldemort’s side and all," Ron said.

"Ron's right," Hermione continued, "and he would no qualms about seeing you seriously injured. Or worse. And like you said, he's alright so you have nothing to feel guilty about," said Hermione comfortingly before looping her arm through his. Ron watched the transaction but said nothing.

"Come on you two," said Ron, "I think Harry could use a butter beer."

...

Draco was let out the following morning thanks to all the rest he had gotten and Madam Pomfrey's healing spells. Unfortunately, all that time gave Draco far too many opportunities to think about Harry.

Pansy and Blaise came often, bringing him food for the dining hall and stories of how hard such and such homework was or how long this test took.

Draco had mostly tuned them out, unable to keep his thoughts from wandering back to Harry's visit. And his glorious, green eyes.

He rolled his eyes inwardly at himself and his one sided, bordering obsession.

That afternoon, he walked with Pansy to the library so she could give him his Defense against the Dark Arts paper he had missed. They walked through the aisles until she found the book she sought and handed it to him.

The pair sat at a table together and worked in silence.

Meanwhile, Harry, Ron and Hermione worked on the other side of the aisle on their own homework and discussed the days events.

The library was quiet, everyone too afraid to anger Madam Pince when Draco heard a voice. He was about to stand to tell the owner of the voice to shut the fuck up when he realized the voice belonged to a familiar know-it-all girl.

"I heard Malfoy left the hospital wing this morning." Harry nodded but said nothing.

"That ferret, I'd hoped he'd be stuck there a while so we wouldn't have to see him," Ron said snickering.

"Ron, cut it out. You know Harry feels guilty about being the reason he was in there, you could show some sensitivity,” Hermione chided. 

Ron frowned but let the subject drop.

So that was why Harry had visited. Guilt. Shame and disappointment washed over Draco even though he should have known as much.

Pansy must have seen it on his face because she looked up at him, concerned.

"Come on, guys. Let's get out of here, I need some fresh air," Draco heard the familiar voice he had become infatuated with say.

The trio stood, as Pansy reached her hand to grasp Draco's to be sure he was alright. He gave her a nod and half smile before pulling his hand back to his parchment, but not before Harry and his friends passed the pair on their way out of the library. Harry looked down at the entwined hands as envy, green and venomous, twisted in his gut.

He knew not why it was there, however he knew  _ he  _ wanted to be the one squeezing the slight hand, soothingly running  _ his fingers _ across knuckles that looked so smooth. Clearly he had taken one too many bludgers to the head. 

Harry looked down at his own hand, briskly walking past the blonde, and out of the library followed by Ron and Hermione.

Had Draco imagined the look Harry’s eyes when he saw Draco? He had to have...

Draco stood up, not yet sure why as his mind attempted to catch up to his body.

"Draco?" Pansy asked concerned.

"I need to use the loo, be right back," and with that he stumbled out of the library into the first bathroom he could find.

He first made sure it was empty before placing his shaky hands on two sides of the sink. He peered up at his reflection, cold, grey eyes looking back at him.

The eyes filled with tears as he thought about his impossible task. He suddenly felt the urge to talk to someone, confide all of his darkest secrets to be made clean once again, to wipe out the red he and his family had caused and start over somewhere new. Harry was the Savior of the wizarding world but he couldn’t save Draco. If Draco failed, Voldemort would kill his family and everyone else he loved, and though he wanted nothing more than for Harry to fix this fucked up world and fulfill his prophecy, but it was impossible. Draco had seen what the Dark Lord was capable, felt it in his mind and on his body, and he would crush the world under his thumb. 

The weight was overwhelming him and he could see it in the silver of his eyes. This task would destroy him, he knew. The two halves of Draco, the deatheater and the one who loved Harry, battled within his heart and he gripped the sink harder, sobbing.

...

Harry didn't know what to think. He could no longer trust his own mind, making him feel strange things he would never have predicted. This deatheater, a boy who would happily see him dead, was tearing through his mind.

"Meet you both in the common room, I'll be right there," Harry said, pointing to the restroom.

Hermione nodded as she grasped Ron's arm and led him away.

Harry needed a moment alone to think. Stepping into the restroom, needing to cool off, he was greeted with the sound of a broken sob. Draco turned the water faucet, leaning forward to wash the tears from his face. As he cried, he suddenly heard footsteps behind him.

Rage boiled over at whoever had seen him this way, weakness on the surface of his skin, and he whipped around with a  _ Crucio _ on his lips, anguish spilling from every pore of his body but he knew that the curse had failed, that he didn’t have the coldblooded anger in his heart to cast the curse, but still, green eyes hidden behind spectacles narrowed in hurt and anger and Draco’s stomach squeezed and he fought not to vomit. 

Before he could finish lowering his wand, he heard the words, "Sectumsempra!" and arched as a blast of pain knocked him to his knees.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be up asap!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is one where the explicit rating starts to come into play, just a warning.

"No, no, God, no!" Harry knelt over the unconscious body, frantic. "Somebody help!" he shouted, desperate to think of something that would repair the bleeding body before him. "Malfoy, oh my god, I'm so sorry! God, help!" Harry applied pressure to the cuts he'd inflicted, a pain he had known too many times before flooding his system. Mourning.

Harry went through every healing spell in his mind, wishing beyond hope that Hermione was there with him or that he had paid more attention to the healing lessons. 

A broken sob escaped his body, wracking his lungs until there was no more air, no more of anything inside him, hollow beyond belief with the knowledge that he had taken a life. That he had taken  _ Malfoy’s _ life. 

Harry had never realized how important Malfoy was to his life, and what a void his absence would leave in Harry's soul. To never look into those grey eyes, hard like steel that seemed to hide a great pain beneath them.

...

All Draco knew was pain. He had never in his life felt something so intense, so cutting, as the slices through his skin as he slipped out of consciousness.

Vaguely, he could hear someone crying for help.

_ Why bother, _ he thought to himself.  _ I can finally rest. _

Already the pain was lessening, a gentle cool numbness flowing through him, and he was vaguely able to think that perhaps Death had finally come for him. He began to slip from the world but something kept him anchored. Briefly, he heard the desperation in a familiar voice and suddenly, the voice said something he had never heard from the other's lips before.

"Please...Draco..." A pressure of something in his hand, warm and solid, and then all was black.

...

"Leave him alone. Despite what you may think, he's here for the same reason you are."

"Oh really? I wasn't aware I was the one who nearly killed Draco. Twice in as many weeks, might I add," he heard Pansy's snide response without yet opening his eyes.

"Ugh, 'Mione we've been here for half an hour, can we get lunch now?"

"Really, Ronald, you ate two hours ago."

"Would you all stop bickering? Hermione, just go with him to lunch, I'm fine here."

"Harry, you've been here everyday for four days."

"I'm fine, just go on I'll catch up with you lot later."

Draco was coaxed out of his sleep just a bit more by the voice he knew too well.

He heard footsteps leaving, and a chair scraping before Pansy said, "Try not to curse him again while I'm gone," before another set of footsteps left. Then the room was silent.

Harry looked down at the blonde, exhaustion gripping him as guilt ate at him. Malfoy no longer looked as close to death as he had when he was first brought to the hospital wing, color slightly returning to his skin, the bags under his eyes less prominent. And still Malfoy hadn’t woken up. 

Slowly, Malfoy's eyelids fluttered open and were momentarily blinded by the harsh light in the room, but when his vision cleared, he could see a magnificent set of green ones looking at him worriedly.

Startled by being in such close proximity to Malfoy, Harry leaned back in his chair, flustered and embarrassed to have been staring.

Draco opened his mouth, thinking about saying something along the lines of how wonderful Harry's eyes were or how his voice had brought him back to the living, but instead what came out was, "What are you doing here?"

Harry looked down at his hands, fiddling with his fraying robes, shame and guilt evident on his face. "I," Harry began, knowing nothing could ever redeem his actions, using a spell he didn't know the effects of, cursing his enemy.

No, cursing Malfoy.

"I needed to make sure you were okay," he finally finished lamely.

Draco brows furrowed him, confused as to how much of Harry's emotions were guilt and how much actually possibly harbored some semblance of affection for him. As usual, Draco didn't allow his hopes to run wild. Harry always had to be the hero.

"You knew I was okay. I lived, didn't I?" Harry looked up, briefly meeting the Slytherin's eyes before staring down at his fingers once more; anywhere but Draco's own gaze. "So what are you doing here?" Draco said, more forcefully this time.

"I... I couldn't leave you. Malfoy, I know I can never be forgiven, I can never forgive myself, but... I am more sorry about this than anything in my life before. I know I can never make it right. And I know you must hate me more than ever. But I wanted to say what I did and see that you were okay. I'll stay out of your way from now on, and I'll be going now."

Harry was halfway to the door when he heard a quiet voice, timid and wounded. “I don’t hate you.” 

Harry turned, wordlessly awaiting Draco to say more.

“I never did. Salazar, I wanted to be your friend, right from the beginning.” 

Harry was frozen in place, a small part of him wanting to escape, wanting to run from his feelings and his guilt and his  _ confusion _ , all brought on by Draco’s presence, but a much larger part needed to know.

"Please don’t leave me,” Draco said through the silence and the weight of his words hung heavy in the air once more, the blood in Harry’s ears seeming to fill the silent room. “I, uh, I don't want to be alone. And I don't remember what happened..." It was true, Draco remembered very little; he remembered the pain,  _ that _ he would never forget, and he remembered the sound of his name on Harry's lips, but nothing more.

Hesitating a moment longer, Harry returned and sat back down in the seat next to the bed, and it was then that Draco fully looked at the Gryffindor's face.

His cheeks were gaunt and pale; sallow looking. It was clear that he had eaten and slept very little for a while.

"How long was I asleep?" Draco asked when Harry made no move to speak.

"Four," Harry cleared his throat, "four days." Once again, Harry refused to make eye contact with him.

"Potter." Harry refused to look up. "Harry," Draco began before pausing, shocked he had used the other's first name.

Harry looked up, the use of his first name drawing his attention.

"Harry, you know I've done so much worse to you... I deserved this and more, from anybody, but especially you."

Harry shook his head doubtfully.

"Harry," he started again, mesmerized by the emerald eyes before him. "I-"

"You're awake!" cried the voice of Pansy Parkinson and she hurled towards the hospital bed. "Dear God, took you long enough," she said before turning to Harry. "He's awake now, happy? You've fulfilled your heroic duty," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She grasped Draco's hand. "I'm so glad to see you, darling."

Harry looked at the hands joined once more and surprisingly felt the same jealousy boil deep within him, unexpected and irrational though it was.

"What are you still doing here, Potter," she spit out the name as Draco had so often to avoid revealing the longing his voice would betray if he called him Harry. But how wrong it sounded coming from Pansy's mouth.

Draco opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, but Harry had already stood and was on his way the the great, oak doors.

"Thank God Potter's finally gone," Pansy said, rolling her eyes with disgust.

"Finally?" Draco questioned.

"That arsehole hasn't left except at night of course. Weasel and Mudblood brought him food, needed to be the tragic hero, I guess," she snickered.

Harry had been here the whole time? He deserved to be guilty, and Draco knew he was, but that was a long time to spend next to someone purely out of guilt.

Again, Draco felt the hope in him well, fight it though he did.

"Now that you're finally up, I'll get you the work you missed."

Draco nodded, attempting a grateful smile. Pansy smiled, giving Draco's hand a final squeeze before departing.

Draco tried to relax, he truly did, Merlin knew he was exhausted, even after sleeping for four days, but he could not quiet his crowded mind. Harry had watched him sleep for days.  _ Fuck, _ but what had he said? What had Harry heard?

But Harry had been by his side. For days. He was almost sorry he had missed it.

However, Draco could not piece together what had prompted Harry to do it. They obviously weren't friends, and while Harry was quite the "hero," it seemed unlikely he would stay that long without another reason.

Salazar, like a schoolboy he was, so ready to twist reality so that it better suited Draco’s wishes. He wondered if he would ever grow out of this fantasy.

It was looking to be a long night, and Draco resounded himself to a quick wank in the hopes of sleeping easier. 

Luckily, it was night time and the hospital wing was now closed to visitors. It was also unlikely Madam Pomphrey would come at this hour. Shedding his pants just off his hips, Draco grasped his hard member in his hand. In his mind's eye, he saw bright, green eyes, as he usually did when committing such an action, and he immediately knew he would not last long at all.

He quickly pumped his fist up and down his pulsing erection as he attempted to withhold a groan.

...

Harry quietly walked up the steps to the hospital wing as he usually did at this hour. He knew he and Malfoy needed to finish their conversation, and though he would never admit it, a part of him wanted to see the Slytherin once more.

Slowly pushing the oak doors so that they wouldn't creak, Harry crept into the room under the safety of his invisibility cloak.

He heard a soft moan and almost turned back. At least, that was what his brain was saying to hsi feet. However, his body had other ideas as it brought him closer to the source of the sound. The soft moans and sighs continued as Harry approached further still until he stopped dead in his tracks as he saw who was the source of the sound.

Draco Malfoy lay with the covers thrown off his body, his pants just off his hips in the most seductive way imaginable. A part of his abs were visible as his shirt had ridden up a bit. He had his head thrown back and was breathing hard as a strong hand stroked his cock quickly. His speed increased as hia movements became less controlled, randomly thrusting his hips upward, trying to meet his hand faster.

Harry stood transfixed, knowing full well he ought to leave, but unable to tear himself from his place. His mind was a puddle of mush, and his feet seemed to not understand any of the directions he was giving them. The only thing that seemed to comprehend anything was Harry's own cock, which quickly grew as all of his blood rushed from his head to his dick.

Harry stood with his mouth ajar, breathing heavily even though he wasn't touching himself. He could tell Malfoy was getting close as he increased his speed even more and thrust up harder and faster. Suddenly, Malfoy cried out, shuddering as his cock spurted white liquid onto his own abs. He slowed his pace, attempting to milk everything he could and Harry's own cock hardened even more at the sight.

He needed to take care of his problem  _ now,  _ the conversation with Draco could wait. He had just turned to leave when he hear Draco sigh and mumble sleepily, "Harry."

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to mention earlier that there is a lot of bad language because I have a potty mouth and they're teenage boys so :) So I'll just leave this here

Harry first thought Malfoy had somehow noticed his presence and he froze in his tracks, not daring to breathe. But Malfoy's breaths became heavier with sleep and he did not speak again. Perhaps he had imagined it...

Harry rushed back to his dorms, trying to race against his pounding thoughts, barely managing to close the door quietly.

What the fuck had just happened?

He didn't know what confused him more; what he had just witnessed, or the fact that he was more turned on than he ever had been in his life.

There was no denying that the events of the past week had stirred up feelings Harry had never realized he'd had, and he had long since realized he was gay since fourth year with Cedric, but he could not understand his reaction to a person that had tried to make his life hell for five years and now was quite possibly on the side of a man who wanted him dead.

Yet it had been Harry's name that had escaped his lips in a moment of passion.

Harry had never felt this before, he knew not how deep his feelings went. He could barely comprehend how a boy had been his enemy less than a week ago but was now a person Harry did not want to live without.

He hadn't realized how important the Slytherin was to his life until he had almost watched him die. Trying to mull all of this over, Harry reached his house's common room and fell into bed, trying to quiet his racing mind.

...

Draco was kept incredibly busy the following days catching up on what he had missed, and he was actually quite grateful for it. He liked the distraction from the stark green eyes that haunted him.

He threw himself into his schoolwork, spending many hours in the library reading both for classes and for pleasure. He had already read three chapters ahead for potions to keep himself occupied.

He walked into the library after classes had finished and nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw the back of a head covered in messy, brown hair. It unmistakably belonged to Harry Potter.

Immediately thrown back to their conversation in the hospital wing and Harry's abrupt exit, Draco found himself walking toward the other boy before even realizing his actions.

He paused in front of the table Harry sat at by himself.

Clearing his throat, he said quietly, "Potter."

Though the name was usually said at the end of a jeer or insult, this time it was said without malice, almost reverently, and Malfoy immediately regretted the lovesick tone he had used.

Harry looked up at the blonde from behind his glasses, his eyes wild a moment before clearing and confusion took its place.

Draco cleared his throat again, unsure of what his goal was. "I, uh, we..." he started, trying desperately to remember his excuse for disturbing the other.

Luckily, Harry finished it for him. "We never did finish our conversation in the hospital wing," Harry said, looking up at him with a mix of worry and guilt in his eyes.

"Yes, right. Do you mind if I sit?" Draco asked, gesturing to the chair across from the Gryffindor. Inwardly, he rolled his eyes at himself. Fuck, he needed to find the cool detachment he had been raised with. Without the usual mask of arrogance, it was difficult to keep his feelings at bay.

Draco looked down at his hands, struggling to think of something to say to break the awkward silence, but again, Harry did it for him.

"Draco, I know you don't want to hear it, but I need you to know. I am so sorry for, well, all that I've done to you. I know you think you deserve it, or something like that, but I have never regretted anything more in my life." When he had finished, Harry exhaled in a rush, seemingly relieved at getting all his words out. 

Though he wanted to focus on Harry's words, Draco couldn't hide the small grin threatening to expose itself on his face. He tried to purse his lips but simply could not hide his pleasure.

Harry still had not realized his mistake, and looked across the table, confused and a little hurt he wasn’t being taken seriously. He had thought they had at least started to move past the old animosity, at least he had hoped...

But Draco was still smiling for it was the second time Draco had heard his name, his true name, on the other's lips, but the first time had been when he was on the brink of death, and he hadn't known if he had simply imagined what he longed to hear.

But hearing his name once more confirmed his belief, and excited him greatly though he fought not to let it show.

However, at this, he failed.

Harry still looked questioning at the blonde, unsure of what part of the conversation about Draco's near death he found so humorous.

"What is it? Fuck, I know I’m shite at feelings and all that, but you don’t need to be--" he cut himself off when he felt Draco’s hand on his arm.. 

"You called me Draco," the blonde whispered, happiness evident in his silver eyes, and he pulled his hand back, grinning unmistakably now and Harry’s chest tightened at the sight. 

Harry felt himself turn red, and looked down at his hands that fiddled with the book he had been reading.

"Sorry," he began, unsure of what else to say.

"Don't be," Draco said, and without thinking, he reached across the table and grasped Harry's hand in his own.

Harry looked up sharply, both of them feeling the pull. Harry did not move, afraid if he did, the hand would retract. Suddenly aware of his actions, Draco pulled his hand back hastily.

"I'm sorry," he said, suddenly standing. He was an idiot to think he could have a normal friendship with a man who could never reciprocate his feelings.

"Draco, wait!" Harry called after him, but he was already out of sight, though far from out of mind.

...

Harry was quiet that night in the dining hall.

"Harry, mate, you've hardly said a word," said Ron, mouth pursed in concern. 

"Are you alright?" said Hermione.

Harry nodded, not looking up from the hand that Draco had touched. No, that Draco had held. His stomach fluttered at the thought, and he shook his head, trying to rid himself of the confusion that refused to budge.

He picked at his food, unable to find hunger when all he longed for was to be with the Slytherin. But the seat across the hall was vacant once more.

Deciding to distract his friends and free his troubled mind, he asked, "How do you think the potions exam went today? I felt like I was reading Latin."

"Really Harry? Most of the questions I answered on the parchment I gave you to study..." replied Hermione.

"No worries, mate," said Ron said with an easy grin. "I think I only got my name right, if anything."

He laughed at his joke and Harry halfheartedly joined, but his mind kept wandering back to the intimate connection he'd had only hours ago, however brief it had been.

Harry stood, leaving his plate untouched. "I've got an early quidditch practice in the morning, I'd better catch some sleep," he said to Hermione's unasked question.

She nodded, and he walked toward the large doors.

...

Harry could not shut off his mind that night. The pulse he had felt between himself and Malfoy was unexplainable, and the fact he had called him Draco? To his face? They surely were not friends.

They’d been enemies since the beginning...

And why had Draco, fuck,  _ Malfoy _ , held his hand? Like they were longtime friends? And why had he enjoyed it? Surely it had to be yet another scheme… But the look on Malfoy’s face had been so open and vulnerable for that small moment, and Harry had a hard time believing that was simply an act. However scheme or otherwise Harry found himself unable to deny the feelings forming for him. His body knew unmistakably that he had enjoyed being in contact with the Slytherin, but his mind warned of caution.

Turning over once more, Harry resolved himself for yet another sleepless night.

...

Draco needed to clear his thoughts the next morning.

He tried in vain to convince himself it had all been a horrible, embarrassing dream but he knew that he couldn't take back what had happened. Nor could he stop thinking about it.

Pulling on his robes before the sun had even risen, he walked across the courtyard and to the lake far enough he hoped he wouldn't be disturbed.

He hoped to lose himself reading on the history of potions next to the lake he often visited to think.

Trying to block out his thoughts, he walked at a brisk pace, focusing on the path, the book, anything to keep his mind away from Harry.

However, his thoughts had far different ideas, especially when he caught sight of a man with glasses and Gryffindor robes, reading by the side of the lake.

...

Harry was enjoying his novel. He had come to appreciate muggle fiction; it was humorous to learn of their perceptions of magic.

He turned another page, smiling to himself, when he felt eyes on him. Looking up, he was met with the steely gaze of the man who had occupied his thoughts all night.

"Malfoy," he began timidly, not wanting to offend the blonde as he had the day before.

Draco felt his heart sink unwillingly at the sound of the formal name rather than his first. "I'm sorry," he started. "I didn't think anyone would be here at this hour." He turned to go, but stopped at Harry's words.

"Hang on," Harry called, needing to talk through his troubled thoughts. "It's good you're here," he said, face heating at the unintentional compliment. "I mean, I wanted to apologize for yesterday. I didn't mean to call you by your first name, and I’m sorry."

He looked up at the strong grey eyes and he felt as though he were melting beneath the intense stare. Briefly flashing back to his Occlumency lessons with snape, he focused on keeping his wall up to the best of his ability, though he had never been very good at it. 

"You did nothing wrong," Draco whispered, unable to comprehend how goddamned good hearted the man must have been to think it was his own fault Draco had, well, grabbed him. "I'm sorry, for...accosting you," he said, shaking his head and grimacing to himself at the memory, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

He hesitantly met Harry’s eyes again, not knowing what to expect when the other didn’t respond, but he was definitely unprepared for a grin in the bright green eyes, followed by a laugh.

...

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to the first person to comment, thanks so much, made my day.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry laughed loudly, throwing his head back as his chest heaved. He couldn't help himself; Malfoy had always been so confident, overly so, and it was an absurd sight to see him so unsure of himself.

Draco was accosting  _ him? _ Harry had landed the Slytherin in the hospital wing twice in the past week and Draco thought he was in the wrong?

Shaking his head once more, Harry let out a smaller chuckle.

"I land a bloke in the hospital wing twice and he apologizes for holding my hand?"

And Godric, how had Draco not noticed how beautiful Harry was when he laughed? Draco wanted to make it happen over and over again because he knew that nothing in this world could make him tire of the uninhibited sound of pure joy, eyes crinkled in the corners, and Salazar Draco was fucked. 

"We never finished our conversation yesterday. Or any conversation for that matter," Harry said, smiling slightly, and glancing at the seat beside him. Draco was still unsure if he should take that as an invitation to sit or not so he remained standing awkwardly over the Gryffindor.

Not so subtly this time, Harry gestured to the place by his side, teasingly patting the ground next to him.

Draco sat, but with as much distance as he could without seeming rude, though he still felt the heat radiating off of Harry's body, and he longed to hold that heat to him. One would think the man was a furnace, he thought inwardly rolling his eyes. 

Harry frowned slightly at the distance between them, but said nothing.

"Look, Malfoy, I know I've a lot to apologize for. I can never forgive myself for what I did to you..." Harry had his hands slightly behind him, supporting his weight with his legs extended.

Draco decided to imitate the position so that they were level with one another. He eyed the hand closest to him and took care to keep his distance from it.

"Harry," The name slipped off his tongue so easily, it felt so much more personal. It gave Harry hope. "I told you already, I deserved all of that and more. Especially from you. How many times have I hurt you, or at least tried to?"

He couldn't look the other in the face.

Harry smiled slightly, forgiveness and compassion in his eyes. He knew Malfoy was guilty for the things he had done, and he knew that he must have had some feelings for Harry; they couldn't have had this conversation otherwise. Not to mention what he had walked in on in the hospital wing.

"We've both done awful things to each other. But I hope we can move on from that. I-I'd like to know you better," Harry said smiling bashfully.

Draco looked up and this time didn't even try to resist the hope and excitement growing within him. "I'd like that too, Harry," he murmured, and the reverence with which he always said Harry's name, without the usual bite or nasty remarks, sent flutters running through Harry.

They smiled shyly to each other, this new friendship foreign territory to the both of them.

"How about we start with what you're reading," suggested Draco, gesturing to the forgotten book at his side. Lying on the soft grass, he listened to Harry's strong voice as he spoke excitedly about his novel.

The boys spent nearly the entire day at the lake. Both were so relieved not to have to think of the war, Voldemort, or really anything outside of their own little world.

But as the sun began its descent, they knew it was time to head back, not wanting to risk worrying their friends, or worse yet, being discovered by someone.

They walked back to the castle separately, though both reflected on their day the entire way back.

Harry smiled slightly at the proximity he had longed to feel for what had felt like ages, the warmth the two bodies shared.

Grinning to himself, Harry quickened his pace, thinking that the sooner he got back, the sooner Monday would come and he would see the blonde haired boy again.

…

Harry and Draco spent nearly every day by the lake after that. In potions first block a note had appeared on his desk asking to meet after lunch during free period. After that, it had become a daily thing, except for the occasions where one had Quidditch practice. 

Harry hadn’t felt this way about anyone, not even Cedric or the cute Ravenclaw from third year, and he felt like a silly schoolgirl for it. His stomach was in a perpetual state of “filled with moths” or however the phrase went, he never grew tired of listening to Draco talk… And when Harry spoke, he felt like Draco absorbed every word. And Godric, his  _ laugh _ . It was rare, too rare, but when Harry made an exceptionally bad pun, once in a while… 

Harry smiled at the thought. 

Harry grinned down at his oatmeal two weeks later, excitedly bouncing his leg, unable to contain his elation for the day to come. He had potions later in the day, during which he would at least be able to  _ see  _ Draco… and maybe catch him staring. Or get caught staring. Or share secret smiles...

"Harry will you stop grinning like an idiot and tell us what the bloody hell is goin' on?" Ron asked around a large bite of biscuit.

Harry shook his head, stuffing another spoonful of breakfast into his mouth to hide his smile.

“For fuck’s sake, Harry, you’ve been grinning to yourself every five minutes, disappearing almost every day, you’re not even gonna tell your best mate who the bird is?” Harry just grinned innocently, swallowing before he responded. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, there’s no bird. I’m just excited for the match coming up,” Harry said, smiling innocently before shoveling in another mouthful. Ron rolled his eyes but at least for the moment seemed sated. 

Finally Harry had no more food in his bowl, and he impatiently waited for Ron to finish his meal so they could head off to their first class.

Transfiguration passed by in a blur, Harry unable to focus on anything McGonagall said for he was too excited for the class that came next, potions. Squirming in his seat, Ron shot him a look as Harry looked up at the clock for the fourth time that minute.

Finally, the class was over, and Harry was out of his seat before the bell had stopped tolling.

Ron packed up his stuff, standing much slower than Harry, while Hermione made her way over from her seats a few rows up.

"Okay, what the hell is with you?"

Harry looked at him quizzically.

"You've been looking at that clock every five seconds and I haven't seen you sit still for a moment this entire day."

Harry shrugged once more, knowing he couldn't answer his question with, 'Oh, I'm just excited for potions so I get to see Malfoy.’

"Come on, we'll be late," he said instead, and began to exit the classroom.

Two people were absent in Potions, whether because of illness or simply ditching, Harry was unsure, but the fact remained that Hermione's potions partner, Padma, and Malfoy's partner, Blaise, were not present.

A thrill ran through Harry's body as he developed a plan worthy of a Slytherin himself.

"Alright class, today we are brewing something I am certain you all are familiar with, Amortentia. You will all need a partner," said Professor Slughorn, not looking up from the papers in his hands.

Ron, Harry and Hermione looked at each other, knowing that one of them would have to be paired with Malfoy since everyone else's partner was present.

Trying not to seem too eager, Harry appeared to consider a moment, before finally stating, as if taking upon some great hardship, "You two go together, I don't want either of you swinging punches again," he said, winking at Hermione as she flushed at the memory of their second year. Ron nodded, relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with the Slytherin.

Harry made his way over to the empty stool beside Draco. "I see we're both partner-less," Harry said, smirking.

Draco looked up from his book where he had been looking over the necessary materials for the potion.

He sighed, and said with his usual drawl, "I was afraid you'd be desperate enough to come over here." Humor danced in his eyes though his voice sounded sincere. "But I'd rather work alone," and with that he looked back down at his book, hiding the twitch of his lips as he awaited Harry's reaction.

Instead of arguing or getting upset, Harry plopped himself down into the seat, and Draco glanced up, surprised, but smiling.

Harry's heart fluttered at the look of contentment because of him, but to maintain appearances and continue their joke, he retorted, "Good thing I don't give a damn about what you'd rather,  _ Malfoy _ ." He said the name teasingly, but it served as a reminder of how good Draco’s first name sounded coming from Harry’s mouth.

Harry grinned at him, but the smile lessened when he saw the slight frown on Draco's lips.

"Draco, what is it? Is everything alright?" Draco's smile returned with the concern in Harry's voice as well as the use of his first name. Draco caught himself before he could sigh like some damsel. 

"Yes, yes, Potter," Draco said, but his eyes told him he wasn't serious, "now could you make yourself useful and get these?" he said, handing him a list of ingredients and gesturing to the shelf that held them all.

Nodding, Harry swept his eyes over the list, analyzing Draco's elegant script. Running his fingers delicately over the words, he retrieved the items as Draco readied the cauldron.

As soon as Harry handed the armful over, Draco became a whirlwind, quickly chopping some root Harry forgot the name of and setting the fire under the cauldron higher so that the liquid within would start to boil.

"Can I trust you with a knife, Potter?" Draco jeered, and Harry looked down to hide his immediate smile. Quietly, he grabbed the knife and began to cut the thorns off the stems of roses.

When this task was done, Draco added the ingredients, stirring the mixture four times clockwise before seven more times counterclockwise.

Draco added the powdered moonstone and pearl dust before cracking the ashwinder eggs into the potion. All that was left was the peppermint, which was to be added last, just as the potion changed from a deep blue to a bright pink.

Quickly shaving the peppermint, Harry cut his finger open but paid it no mind as the potion became a lovely magenta before finally a pink, and Harry threw the peppermint in with his uncut hand.

Wincing quietly to himself, he now examined the cut as the potion was supposed to set for two minutes without disruption before it would finally give off its aroma.

Draco turned around, hearing the noise, and just as Harry was about to suck the blood off of his profusely leaking finger, Draco grabbed the injured hand to stop him, holding it in his own soft one.

The electricity that had grown so familiar between the two pulsed once more and Harry looked up into the steely eyes focused on his cut.

Without letting go, Draco pulled out his wand and muttered a healing spell. Immediately, the fibers from both ends of the cut reached out and connected, pulling both sides of skin together once more, leaving only a soft pink line and then nothing.

Draco hesitated a moment before dropping the Gryffindor's hand and staring up into the forest green eyes he adored.

Pink sweeping across his cheeks, Draco took a step back away from Harry, embarrassed by the intimate moment, but Harry's eyes held nothing but kindness and sympathy.

He smiled slightly before turning back to the cauldron. The potion had begun to emit the scent and, as assured by Harry, two minutes had indeed passed.

Suddenly, the aroma hit Draco with full force, and he was nearly knocked backwards by the suddenness of it all.

He had smelled the love potion before, and it had always smelled the same to him, but he had never made the connection until that moment.

The scent he inhaled from the potion was that of a forest, filled with trees and bubbling rivers and nature, earth and soil underneath, as well as a slight scent of fire, a warmth that made Draco feel safe. Draco smelled the wind, wild and untamed that whipped through his hair when on a broomstick. When Draco smelled the potion, he smelled Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know I know its such an overused trope but im so friction sappy and I never get tired of it. Hope you guys enjoyed it, thanks again to Dinkydog for commenting twice, the best feeling honestly. 
> 
> Thanks to all for reading :)


	6. Chapter 6

Harry was excited to have finished the potion, its scent had never changed for him before, always smelling of the air, tea, and broomstick polish. But this time, while the potion still gave off those scents, there was something new in the mix, something Harry couldn't place.

It smelled like rain and wet concrete, something Harry had never detected before. He was still trying to place it when Draco walked past with his head ducked, that Harry finally recognized the scent. Draco smelled like rain.

Godric, Harry was in deeper than he had thought. And Draco still wasn’t looking at him. 

"Malfoy," he started. 

No answer.

"Malfoy," he tried again, slightly louder. Draco still wouldn't turn his head as he fiddled with the leftover ingredients to give his hands something to do.

Harry stepped towards Malfoy's back, the scent of wind and the forest encompassing Draco. His breath right on Draco's ear, he whispered, "Draco?"

Draco shivered involuntarily at the feeling, heat pooling low in his belly, and he knew he had to step away to clear his mind. Increasing the distance between them, Draco mourned the loss of the other's heat on his back but knew the action was necessary before he did something he would regret.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked, concern evident in his voice but undertones of hurt cut through at Draco's rejection of his proximity.

Draco masked his feelings and made sure to breathe through his mouth to avoid smelling Harry through the potion. Placing his usual sneer on his face, he looked down at Harry with all of the energy he could muster.

"What's wrong is that I've had to be partnered with such a useless ape for a potion,  _ Potter _ ," he said with an eyebrow raised, trying to hide both his fear and his confusion, though Harry could see the sadness sparkling in the silver pits of his eyes, even though he knew not the reason it was there.

He rolled his eyes half heartedly, wondering what it was that he had done this time.

...

The rest of the day passed in a blur, Harry staring at the back of a platinum blonde head for most of his classes. Draco didn't look at him once, not even when Crabbe tried to slam Harry with his enormous shoulder, but Harry had been too quick, lithely stepping around the large body.

Ron made a rude gesture but said nothing, though Malfoy was occupied looking at the floor in front of him and didn't even seem to notice what had occurred.

Harry waited by the lake in their usual spot for half an hour with the slim hope that Draco would show. But he never did. Giving up, Harry walked back to the castle alone. 

Finally, it was time for dinner, though Harry didn't have much of an appetite. He had two things that had simply refused to leave his mind since potions class; first was the fact that Malfoy had been ignoring him all day, and second was the bewitching aroma of rain that Harry couldn't get out of his head.

Ever the one to make a decision in the spur of the moment, Harry stood when Malfoy still refused to make eye contact with him for twenty minutes.

"I have to finish the potions paper for tomorrow," he muttered in excuse, and Hermione was too preoccupied to hear him as she simply nodded, staring at her plate as Ron and Lavender exchanged tongue from across the table. Ron hadn't even noticed he'd stood.

Walking briskly over to the Slytherin table, Draco studiously ignored him.

Coming up quickly with another Slytherin-like plan of the day, he approached Malfoy.

"We need to discuss the potions paper," he said, imploring the grey eyes to look at him. When they didn't, Harry spoke again before hurriedly exiting the dining hall. "Library. Ten minutes."

...

The library was deserted when Malfoy entered, everyone most likely still finishing their suppers.

Harry was seated at a table alone with his fingers laced in front of him.

He didn't look up as Draco approached, staring down at his hands.

Draco took the seat across from him and said nothing. He held his hands in his lap, wringing them nervously. He hadn't realized how hard it would be to be friends with this boy and hide his feelings. Though he knew he couldn't take their friendship back now, he still didn't think he could handle the hurt if the friendship became any closer. 

"Malfoy," Harry started hesitantly, and Draco's heart nearly broke at the use of the impersonal name.

Draco looked up at the forest green eyes and his heart leapt into his throat. He swallowed nervously.

"Look, I get it if you don't want to be friends, people change their minds. And I've done shit I can never redeem, I know that. But I wish you would just be honest with me so that it's not like we're friends one second then not the next."

Salazar, Draco wondered if he would ever be able to look at Harry and not be  _ floored _ by those clear green eyes, and Merlin, it shouldn’t be  _ legal _ to have lashes that dark. He swallowed nervously but Harry’s gaze never dropped, patiently awaiting his response. 

Draco nodded, and the two were so close at this point Draco could see the small flecks of gold within the green, like sunlight shining through a forest canopy.

Harry grinned and Draco placed his elbows on the table-- Merlin that smile could light up a city-- unable to resist staring dreamily at the Gryffindor with his chin on his hand. He placed his hands flat on the table, realizing the position he was in, and Harry began to reach a hand across, not yet aware his own movement.

Two fingers touched and electricity pulsed through them, but this time, neither pulled away. Instead, Draco met him halfway and allowed Harry to place his hand over the other's.

It was incredible to Draco how much heat and emotion could flow through him from one touch, and he never wanted to move again.

"Will you come back to the lake tomorrow? It wasn’t the same without you there today."

The emerald eyes looked so eager, so hopeful, Draco was helpless to resist. He nodded once more, not trusting his voice, and the hand covering his own gave a gentle squeeze, causing another wave of heat to rush through Draco.

"Brilliant, I'll see you then," he smiled and with a final “Goodnight, Draco,” murmured right in his ear as the Gryffindor walked past, he exited the library, smile etched on his handsome face.

Draco stood, looking at his hand as he felt the remnants of electricity pulsing and smiled to himself. He had never felt more at ease.

...

The next day flew by for Draco, yet still not quickly enough. He was unable to shake the butterflies flitting around his stomach for the entire day, especially when a certain pair of green eyes met his.

Draco bounced in his seat through all of his classes, willing them to move faster. During the midday meal, he was hardly able to eat anything, the butterflies filling up his stomach so much. He settled for a piece of bread and a couple strawberries.

Finally, the time came that classes finished and Draco could leave the castle.

He was just about to step into the courtyard when Pansy's voice stopped him. "Draco? Where are you going?"

As he so often did, Draco thanked his Slytherin ability to lie on the spot. "I'm just off to fly for a bit, I'll be back for dinner." Before she could protest or question him further, he took off, walking at a brisk pace in the direction of the lake, unable to contain his excitement.

He refused the urge to actually jog there; he knew Harry would most likely take longer, and getting there faster would not help his impatience.

However, he was quite pleasantly surprised to see Harry already sitting there; he must have been as eager as Draco.

Draco could no longer hide the large grin that broke over his face and Harry blushed deeply at the heartbreakingly beautiful smile. 

Draco decided he rather liked that color on Potter, it made his heart flutter and emotion pool in his belly.

"Hi," Draco said nervously, casually sitting beside Harry, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. "How was your day?"

"Good, but you're much better at potions than Ron and me," he replied, chuckling.

"I'd imagine I'm better at most things, Potter," he said with his usual arrogance but this time Harry could hear the humor.

"Not Quidditch," Harry said with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Touché," he acquiesced, smiling softly, and Harry longed to make that smile come more often.

"Speaking of potions," Harry began, pulling some parchment out of his robes and a book to write on, "want to help me with this?" It was obviously the potions paper they had been assigned days before that was due Wednesday, the next day.

"Tell me you've at least started it," Draco said, groaning.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "I was a bit... distracted," he said, shyly avoiding eye contact with Draco.

"Hey," Draco said softly, and without realizing it, he reached over and lifted Harry's chin, forcing him to look into the startling grey eyes.

Harry bit his bottom lip gently, staring at the pale face with a mixture of curiosity and something Draco couldn't place.

Aware of the intimate contact between them, Draco dropped his hand back to his side, embarrassed by the affectionate connection.

"So, the paper," Harry prompted, seeing the distraught look in the clouded eyes, normally hard as granite, though at the moment an open silver. "Will you help?" Harry gave his best boyish grin and Draco melted, unable to resist.

He nodded, returning the youthful smile that still dazzled him every time.

...

The boys worked for hours until it was almost supper time, and Harry was almost finished. He was fully capable of finishing the rest on his own, they both knew, yet neither was ready to part with the other just yet.

"It's getting late," Draco started, eyeing the sun setting on the horizon. He wasn't ready to leave Harry's company but he didn't want to overstay his welcome.

"Yeah," Harry replied wistfully, drinking in the beautiful sight before him that was so wonderfully Draco while the Slytherin eyed the sunset, magnificent reds and oranges thrown across the clouds in the sky.

Draco looked back at Harry, suppressing a smile as Harry couldn't look away fast enough.

"We should head back," Draco said, standing.

Harry nodded and put away the now almost filled parchment and book. Draco outstretched a hand to help him up which Harry gladly took, each of them glad for the excuse to share physical contact.

When Harry had stood, Draco began to let go, but the Gryffindor held on and Draco raised his gaze questioningly but saying nothing. Harry looked down at the entwined hands and began to walk in the direction of the castle, not removing his hand from Draco's until they were within sight of it.

...


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos and comments give me life!!! Thank you guys so much.

Draco was almost out of earshot when Harry’s voice stopped him.

"I still haven't finished that bloody paper."

Draco laughed, and Harry relished the sound; he had never heard him sound so at ease. "Yes, because  _ somebody's _ the slowest writer in all of Hogwarts. Not to mention, you had three days to work on it and you didn't even write your name on the paper." Each walked closer to meet somewhere in the middle so that they no longer had to shout.

Harry smiled, loving the easy banter between them now that it was no longer malicious. "You got me there, but either way, I still have to finish it tonight and I think Snape would suspect something if the whole paper was well written and then suddenly my poor excuse for writing as a conclusion."

Draco smirked once more. "Well I can't argue with that logic, now can I?" he said sarcastically, though secretly his heart was beating a mile a minute at the mere thought of spending more time with Harry. "And you really do need my excellent potions skills." He said this with his usual air superiority but he reached out his hand as he did, softly grasping the fingers of the boy before him.

Harry gave them a gentle squeeze, murmuring, "I'll see you in the library after supper?"

He said it as a question though by his tone, Draco recognized that Harry already knew the answer.

He nodded, feeling the rough fingers in his hand once more before walking to the dining hall without another word.

...

Ron ate without Lavender that evening, and Harry enjoyed having his friend's attention for once. Hermione was far less quiet and it almost felt like it had in the earlier years, without the drama and romance and the only worry Harry had was about Voldemort himself.

Harry rolled his eyes, Voldemort was way more drama than Lavender, though he almost preferred his company. Almost.

It was different from the other years however because Harry was hardly able to pay attention to the Gryffindor conversation as he continually felt the piercing stare of grey eyes on his face, though he constantly fought the urge to look over there himself.

Harry was nodding quietly, pretending to listen to Hermione ramble on about how excited she was to move on from studying Gillyweed to Venomous Tentacula.

He looked up briefly again, making eye contact with glistening silver eyes as both boys looked back down at their plates, each embarrassed to have been caught.

"Harry," Hermione said accusingly, shaking his arm impatiently.

"Sorry, yeah, Venomous Tentacula, it's going to be great," he said as enthusiastically as he could muster. Hermione rolled her eyes but continued with her story.

Finally, supper was finished and Harry could go to the library.

"I'll see you guys at the common room, I still have to finish this rubbish paper," Harry said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

"Blimey, Harry, I feel like we haven't seen you all day. Don't you want to work on it in the common room? That way 'Mione can help." With this, Hermione rolled her eyes and glared, as if to say ‘poor, helpless boys,’ but Harry could see the pride on her face that Ron thought so highly of her.

"No, I'd probably just get distracted," Harry said, trying to hurry the conversation along so he could meet Draco.

"He's right, Ron, besides, I can't always write your essays for you both," Hermione said, but Harry could tell she was glad for the excuse to be with Ron alone.

Harry nodded, and before Ron could protest further, he half ran out of the dining hall, calling a quick, "Catch you both in a bit," over his shoulder.

Breathlessly, he flew to the library and threw himself into a chair in the back, setting his parchment and ink up on the table. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the table, endeavoring to look busy but failing miserably.

He hadn't noticed Draco had walked up until he heard the silky voice. "Impatient to get started, Potter? I never knew you had such a passion for potions," Draco said, a smirk playing on his lips.

Harry couldn't help but grin innocently up at him, and once again Draco was left breathless at the striking beauty that was Harry.

The Gryffindor gestured to the seat across from him, and together they finished the paper within a matter of minutes. Neither was quite ready to leave yet so they stayed, discussing a wide range of topics from potions, which Draco had a real passion for, to Quidditch.

They stayed away from talking about the Dark Lord for Harry was still unsure where Draco stood, though he hoped he was no longer under his influence.

Abruptly, Draco changed the topic once more. "I never did apologize, for, uh, breaking your nose beginning of this year," he said, chewing his lip nervously. He wanted to avoid the powerful stare of the green eyes but he found himself unable to tear his gaze away.

But Harry's answer surprised him. "Seriously?"

Draco looked at him confused, about to open his mouth in question, but Harry beat him to it.

"I almost kill you twice in a single year and you're worried about my nose?" He grinned at him and Draco felt a smile twitch his own lips. “I thought Luna was a tad too good at  _ Episkey _ , now my nose is too handsome compared to the rest of my face,” Harry said, pouting. “I suppose I should thank you for this new Adonis-like nose but now my face is all off balanced…” 

Harry continued rambling about how handsome his nose was and how average the rest of his face, and Draco’s smile grew and grew until he couldn’t keep his laughter in, rolling his eyes fondly and squeezing Harry’s hand briefly. 

"Draco," the name still sent shivers through the Slytherin, "please don't worry yourself about this. It's over, done. We've both started over, remember?"

Draco nodded reassured by his words, but his smile turned dark as they reminded him of something else, his impossible task that he couldn't escape from simply by 'starting over'.

Harry sensed the change but said nothing, trying again for a reassuring smile. He hesitantly reached a hand out across the table, resting it halfway between them, but Draco only looked at it and did nothing.

Pausing a moment, Harry retracted it, wondering what had changed so suddenly.

Harry stood, sensing their time together was over, and he hoped desperately they were not back to where they had started.

Draco stood with him, unsure of what to say. He didn't want him to leave yet. He was so tempted to tell him everything; if anyone could help him, he trusted Harry the most, but he knew the Chosen One had enough problems with Voldemort and he didn't need Draco's too.

So Draco stood there, pleading with the Gryffindor with stormy eyes, but Harry frowned slightly and twisted his hands in front of him.

"Guess I'll see you around, Malfoy," and Draco knew he had lost the only good thing in his life.

...

"Ron, shut up, will you?" Harry said, attempting to maintain attention on Professor McGonagall at the front of the classroom.

He saw Blaise snicker next to Malfoy as he overheard Harry's comment but Draco made no movement, still as marble looking at the paper in front of the classroom.

Ron had been talking about the Harpies game for the entire class but Harry could not focus on the meaningless chatter, his mind was occupied by the blonde sitting two rows in front of him.

He saw Blaise lean over and whisper something to Draco to which he nodded slightly.

Ron continued to rant about the close game when McGonagall cut him off.

"Mr. Weasley, is there something you wish to share with the class?"

"No, Professor," Ron said looking down at his lack of notes, his face as red as his hair.

Blaise coughed on a laugh at this. "Mr. Zabini, since you and Mr. Weasley are having a particularly difficult time focusing, perhaps you need a change in partners. Mr. Weasley, change seats with Mr. Malfoy."

"Professor-" Ron looked like he was about to be sick but the witch simply put up a hand to show she did not want to hear about it.

He angrily shook, grabbing his book and parchment and sulking to the desk now occupied solely by Zabini. He sat down heavily as far as he could get from the other body and looked studiously forward, not acknowledging the other's existence.

Draco, meanwhile, was slowly walking towards Harry, guiltily looking at the floor. He still felt remorseful for the night in the library yet he hadn't spoken to the Gryffindor since.

Draco was so afraid of letting himself get close to someone, or worse still, letting someone get close to him. Especially Harry. Harry, who happily took on the world’s problems as his own, Harry who was thrown into a situation at only a year old, Harry who often without consideration gave up the means of his own happiness for the benefit of others.

Silently, he sat in Ron's now vacant chair, glancing briefly at Harry's face, but Harry was looking down at the parchment in front of him, scratching something down in his chicken scratch writing.

Draco placed his own parchment and resumed writing as well as the professor continued to teach. He glanced up again but Harry was still ignoring his presence.

Subtly, making certain McGonagall's back was to them, Draco pulled out another piece of parchment.

On it, he wrote,  _ Are you going to ignore me for the entire class?  _ Hesitantly, he slid it across the table to where Harry could read it.

Contemplating a moment, he wrote his response directly below Draco's.  _ You pulled away from me, remember? Everytime I think we’re getting to be closer you pull away and close off leaving me wondering what I did. _

Draco watched the strong hand as it moved swiftly across the paper, tendons and veins showing as the hand continued.

Draco took the paper back and looked at it for what felt like a very long time. What Harry said was true, he knew that the selfless thing to do would be to pull away from Harry and not let this progress any further, but unfortunately he was very selfish.

_ You're right. I'm sorry _ . Draco slid the sheet over and watched the green eyes scan his line over and over again. He bit his lip and looked up into the clear silver ones briefly, giving a half smile before looking down once more and writing his own line below Draco's.

As he pushed the parchment once more to Draco, the blonde reached over, brushing his fingers along Harry's hand, looking pleadingly into the forest green eyes before reading Harry's writing.

_ Thank you, Draco.  _

...


	8. Chapter 8

**** The boys didn't write to each other anymore for the remainder of the class, though they did exchange small smiles, secretive and shy, as they both caught the other staring. They subconsciously leaned towards one another, nearly shoulder to shoulder, and both had their hands on the table, mere inches from the other.

Draco, wanting to make up for the previous night and reassure Harry of his continued emotions, slowly slid his hand across until both pinkies touched ever so slightly. Warmth spread throughout Draco, and appeared to do so as well in Harry as his cheeks became a slight pink as blood rushed in them.

Still trying to maintain subtlety, Draco slowly, moving a faction of a millimeter every minute it seemed, wrapped his own little finger over Harry's in a slight caress.

Harry's pulse quickened, his heart hammering loudly in his chest, and he almost feared Draco would be able to hear it.

Too soon the class ended and Draco quickly pulled his hand away with a small, embarrassed smile. Trying to will what courage the Slytherin could muster, he asked quietly, "Do you want to meet in our spot by the lake today? Same time?"

Harry nodded, biting his lip to fight the smile as Ron walked over to meet him. To avoid suspicions, Draco said, "And tell your pet weasel to watch his mouth so I don't have to sit with your heroic arse again, Potter." This was said with his usual sneer and Harry simply rolled his eyes, not trusting himself not to laugh, while Ron began a retort but Draco was already gone.

"Come on, Ron, he's not worth it," though he knew as he said this that Draco was worth that and so much more.

...

As soon as the final class had finished, Harry had to restrain himself from flying out the door.

"See you for supper," he called to Ron and left before he could ask where he was going. He walked as quickly as he could without seeming suspicious and finally made it to their private spot by the lake.

He sat down, bouncing a knee and trying to appear busy so that when Draco came he didn't look too desperate.

Would he hold his hand again? Harry felt his stomach knot in excitement and trepidation, he could no longer deny his feelings for the Slytherin, and he was fairly certain those feelings were returned, but Draco was always so closed off, it was hard to break down his walls.

But Harry was not one to give up easily. He picked at his bitten nails to amuse himself until the other's arrival. Finally, Draco came and Harry fought to appear casual.

Draco was not so good at hiding it though. "You came," he whispered with almost awe in his voice, as though he could not believe he was worth Harry's time. How wrong he was.

"Of course," Harry's eyebrows knit together and he looked up at the blonde concerned.

Draco still hadn't sat down yet, prompting Harry to stand, not only so they would be on equal levels but also for the mere proximity of the boy.

They stood close together, face to face, and Harry could feel the nervous, minty breath wash over his face. His eyes hooded slightly with the scent of rain and mint, the same smell of Amortentia.

He stepped slightly closer, trying to inhale as much of that scent as he could and Draco was struck once more at the beauty of the emerald eyes with flecks of gold hidden in them, hidden behind large glasses that Draco reached over and took off before he could change his mind.

He wanted to see the gold in those eyes, unobstructed.

Harry blinked slowly at him and Draco couldn't help but feel that those flecks were his and his alone, only Draco could see Harry this close, especially without the lenses in the way, and a wave of pride washed over him at this thought.

"Do you want to go for a walk," asked Draco, trying to snap out of the spell Harry had him under, needing to lessen their proximity so that he could think straight.

Harry nodded, and Draco smiled shyly as he extended his hand.

Harry took back the glasses and put them on once more and reached for Draco's still outstretched hand. Their fingers entwined easily as it became more and more natural, and they each smiled shyly at one another, for the moment uncaring about hiding their feelings.

They walked and talked hand in hand at the private edge of the lake until the sun had almost finished its descent. They stopped at the edge of the underbrush, just hidden from sight.

"We should head back," Harry whispered, unwilling to remove his hand from Draco's. They each were incredibly close together, and Harry looked into the deep silver orbs in front of them, so clear Harry felt he would fall in.

They stared a moment longer, eyes searching and hands warm and soft. Draco nodded slightly, not ready to part but knowing it would be suspicious if they didn't.

Suddenly, before either could stop themselves, they were locked in a tight embrace, Harry feeling the silky platinum locks as Draco stroked his back slowly. Too soon, they pulled away, smiling to themselves, and began to walk in opposite directions.

"Same time tomorrow," Draco called out and Harry smiled to himself, knowing he need not respond. They both knew he would be there.

...

The next several days passed in a similar fashion, without the transfiguration incident. They would exchange glances in the classes they shared, especially in potions when each would just so happen to retrieve ingredients at the same time, their hands brushing.

Their daily routine was continued once more; when classes had finished, both boys would meet by the lake, talking, walking, sometimes reading silently to themselves simply enjoying the others presence.

It also became a custom that every time they sat or walked together, one of them would reach for the other's hand and would not let go until it was time to leave.

Harry loved spending time with the Slytherin, but the end of each visit was almost his favorite part. Almost. After they had first embraced, they would hold one another as if that boy was the one thing keeping them on this earth before parting each evening.

Harry looked forward to it each day and it almost made it worth their having to leave each other.

"Parting is such sweet sorrow," said Draco one day, chuckling to himself as he stroked Harry's hair as they embraced, reveling in the thick softness that smelled of warmth and wind.

Harry pulled away, excitement in every line on his face. "You read Shakespeare!" he cried enthusiastically.

"Of course I did, you said he was good, for a muggle," said Draco, wrinkling his nose playfully and squeezing Harry's hand in his. "We should go," he said, reluctantly dropping the hand and murmuring, "Tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Dray," Harry whispered to himself, for Draco had already begun his walk back to the palace. Suddenly, Harry had an idea. "Dra- uh, Malfoy," he called.

Draco turned around, confused hearing his surname once more. Harry jogged to catch up to him and looked around to make sure they were still alone.

"Draco." Draco nodded, grinning like a schoolboy. "It's Saturday tomorrow."

Draco's smile widened but he still said nothing, prompting the other to begin.

"Can we, I mean, would you want to maybe, meet earlier? After lunch?"

Draco looked as though he were contemplating the idea and Harry's face fell slightly but Draco grinned and the smile returned. "Of course. I'll see you then," and with that, he was gone, smile upon his face.

...

Draco couldn't stop thinking about an emerald set of eyes all throughout dinner. It didn't help that said eyes continued to stare at him before looking away every time Draco looked up.

He was behaving like a silly schoolboy, unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face. Draco couldn't believe how much he had changed, and all because of Harry, simply during the course of a few weeks.

He barely heard the conversations between Pansy and Blaise but it didn't matter; all that did was that he was going to spend the next day with Harry.

...

Ron and Lavender had been vigorously snogging for the entire meal, and while Hermione gave them pointed glares, Harry paid them no mind as he stared across at the silver eyes.

Finally, Hermione had had enough. "Ronald, Harry and I are trying to eat here," she said angrily, trying and failing to not sound jealous.

Harry looked up, surprised to have heard his name.

Standing up though otherwise ignoring her comment, Ron gave a quick goodbye before he was pulled by the girl out of the hall.

"Merlin, he is infuriating," she said angrily, pushing away her plate of uneaten chicken. "Why are boys so frustrating?"

Harry glanced at her, wary of taking sides though he knew she needed his support. "I'm sorry, Hermione," was all he said.

He stood and pulled her to her feet, embracing her in a way he hoped was comforting. As he did so, he felt stormy eyes on him and looked to see Draco watching him with a mix of envy and hurt on his face.

The blonde quickly looked down when their eyes met, embarrassed for feeling so petty, and Harry found his arm wrapped around Hermione's shoulders protectively as he walked her to the common room.

...

The pair talked for hours in the common room, Harry trying to distract her from Ron.

"We should do something, visit Hagrid or something, just the two of us," he suggested.

"Yes, we should. Tomorrow's Saturday..." she said hopefully.

"Sorry, 'Mione, I'm really busy tomorrow, Slughorn needs me for a project... How about Sunday?" He felt bad about lying to her but he didn't much other choice.

She nodded, staring at the fire. "I should get to bed." She said finally. "Thank you Harry, for... helping me. You're a good friend," she stood and embraced him once more, and Harry felt a swell of love for his friend as she walked to the girls dorms.

Harry stood by himself, thinking about what to do about his two friends for a moment, before heading up to the dorms himself.

When he got to his bunk, he saw Ron sprawled out on his bunk, munching on a box of chocolates.

"Oh, hey, Harry," he said around a chewy caramel. "Sorry, I didn't eat much at supper and saw these on your bed. Didn't think you'd mind," Harry shook his head, beginning to change into his pajamas.

"Harry?" Harry looked at him quizzically. "Can I tell you something?" The brunet nodded. "I think I'm in love with her," and with this he giggled to himself, eating another chocolate.

"Well you've been snogging her for the past month," Harry said, rolling his eyes.

"Who?" asked Ron.

"Who, Lavender of course. You've been steady for over a month."

"No not Lavender," Ron said, rolling his eyes as though speaking to a child. "Romilda Vaine."

"Romilda? Have you even spoken to her?"

"No, I just know," said Ron, a disgusting love-struck expression on his face.

Suddenly, the gears in Harry's head clicked into place: the chocolates, the card with her face on it, Ron's sudden obsession with a girl he'd never met.

"Why don't we go see her, Romilda? I'll introduce you," he said, pulling Ron to his feet and walking him to Slughorn's classroom.

...

The next morning in the hospital wing, Ron was still unconscious though Madam Pomphrey had said he would be okay. Harry hadn't left his side though he had told a first year that had happened to stop by to notify Hermione.

Hermione had sat on Ron's other side, saying nothing yet supporting him like she always would.

Suddenly, a shrill voice interrupted the still morning. "Where is he? Where is my Won-Won?" Lavender said in her obnoxious voice. "Has he been asking for me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry looked away, not wanting to give the girl a dirty look for Ron's sake.

"What is  _ she  _ doing here?" Lavender said, glaring at Hermione. At this, Hermione stood, anger evident on her face.

"I might ask you the same question."

"I  _ happen _ to be his girlfriend," Lavender said proudly, looking down at Hermione like something on the bottom of her shoe she couldn't get off.

"I happen to be his... friend."

"Don't make me laugh, you haven't spoken in weeks. I suppose you want to make up with him now that he's suddenly all  _ interesting _ ."

"He's been poisoned you daft dimbo!"

Ron stirred suddenly, rolling on his side, mumbling in his sleep.

"See, he senses my presence," said Lavender, running to the end of the bed. "Don't worry, Won-Won, I'm here. I'm here."

He began mumbling again, and this time they could all make out what he was saying. "Her...My...Nee...Her..Mione...Hermione."

Lavender stood, trembling with anger, and fled the hospital wing, sobbing loudly. Harry resisted the urge to laugh and rolled his eyes as if to say 'finally.'

"Come everyone, Mr. Weasley is well tended," said Dumbledore and everyone except for Ron and Hermione filed out of the room.

Harry, now that the emergency had passed, suddenly remembered his plan for the afternoon. Suddenly, the large clock rang noon signalling the beginning of lunch.

Harry only had an hour.

...   
  



	9. Chapter 9

Harry bounded down the stone steps from the hospital wing as quickly as his feet would carry him. Out of breath, he entered the dining hall before plopping himself next to Fred and George who had already begun eating.

Harry looked at the food around him but found himself far too nervous to eat. He grabbed a roll, buttering it and slowly ate it while glancing at the Slytherin table every few seconds.

Fred and George filled the conversation for him, and Harry was able to get away with the occasional nod, smile, and "oh wow."

Again, Harry’s gaze drifted to Draco but this time steel eyes met his own, but they softened when they saw who was staring, melting into a warm silver that made Harry's heart flutter.

When he had finished his roll, Harry stood up saying his goodbyes to the twins before exiting the castle. He walked quickly to their spot, waiting for the other to arrive.

Finally, Draco came and sat next to him, their bodies mere inches from each other, and the Slytherin gave a bashful smile worthy of a Hufflepuff, causing Harry to laugh.

Draco took Harry's hand, stroking it with his thumb. "I love that sound," he said quietly, more to himself than to Harry.

Harry blushed in response, gently squeezing the soft hand in his. After a moment, he let go and laid back on the soft grass, gazing up at the leaves high above them and beyond at the brilliant sky. The sky brought out the blue in Draco's eyes that made Harry want to fall into their depths.

Draco hesitated a moment before lying back with him, Harry taking his hand once more. They laid like that for what felt like hours, saying nothing, merely looking into the other's eyes. They talked about little things, why Harry had chosen to be a seeker, Draco had laughed when he found out it was because of him.

"Sounds like me," he said chuckling. "Gods, I'm and arse."

Harry nodded, shit-eating grin wide on his face, and hesitantly, he reached out a hand and stroked the pale cheek before him, pink spreading beneath his fingertips.

Draco dared not move, closing his eyes at the intimate touch and inhaling slightly when the fingers just barely brushed across his full lips.

When they were removed, he ran his tongue along the path the fingers had taken on his mouth, looking wide-eyed at Harry.

"You know I'm a seeker because of you too, Harry," Draco murmured.

"I didn't. How’s that?" Harry asked curiously.

"I wanted to get your attention," Draco said, laughing softly again at the foolishness of it all. "Even if it meant getting under your skin."

"Well it worked," Harry said, shifting further onto his side so that he could see Draco's side profile even better: the arch of his nose, the curve of his lips...

"What, getting your attention or getting under your skin?"

"Both," Harry laughed, and Draco grinned once more.

"I love that sound," he repeated, this time looking at Harry so he knew he was addressing him.

"So I've heard," Harry teased and Draco snickered.

Draco turned on his own side then, mirroring Harry, as he stared into the emerald eyes he adored. He inhaled slightly, reveling in the scent of the forest and the wind; reveling in the scent of Harry.

Harry scooted closer, until they were almost chest to chest, heat radiating between them.

Harry slowly lifted a hand, awaiting Draco's reaction, but when he did nothing but continue to stare into his eyes, he reached the hand forward once more, feeling the smooth, pale skin of his cheek before feeling the strands of delicate hair.

Draco closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling, opening them when Harry pulled back again. This time, Draco reached forward, not touching Harry's skin but instead removed his glasses and placing them in the Gryffindor's chest pocket, wanting to see into Harry's heart without obstruction.

He placed his arm at his side once more, simply staring into the green depths, fragmented with golden flecks that glimmered in the sunlight.

"Harry?" Draco broke the stillness, a question that had been nagging him for weeks suddenly pressing to be answered. "Can I ask you something?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course." Harry's brows knit together with worry.

"I just- not that I blame you, I'm not angry, and don't bother apologizing again, I mean it, but I just need to know, why did you curse me?"

Harry sighed and looked away, guilt swallowing once more.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Draco added.

"No, you deserve an explanation," Harry said, gnawing his lip in trepidation. "I was stupid, beyond stupid. Truthfully, Draco, when I saw you in the library... and watching you in the hospital wing after the Quidditch match... I was just so confused, I was... _ feeling _ things I couldn't understand and seeing you there, I guess all of my emotions kind of flooded at once, and I took them out on you.

"It was the worst thing I've done in my life, I know you said not to apologize but Draco I have to-" tears welled in the green pits. "Draco, I'm so sorry," Harry said, finally looking at Draco with such pain and anguish his heart constricted for the other boy.

Draco reached out and wiped the tears that had run down Harry's cheeks, hoping to remove the guilt with them. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Please stop feeling so guilty, it's forgiven."

Draco tried to look reassuring but Harry was still unconvinced.

"I didn't leave your side," Harry finally whispered, trying to blink away his tears. "I pretended I was sick with my teachers. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep, Dray, you don't know how important..." he trailed off. "I went with Ron back to the dorms only to come back under the cloak after he thought I was asleep. I left early in the morning so no one knew that I..." he stopped once more.

Draco was shocked, how long this poor boy had waited for him to wake, watching over him as he slept.

"I couldn't leave you, Draco," he said, shaking his head vigorously.

"I know, Harry, I know," and with these words, Draco closed the distance between them, holding Harry tightly to his chest, thinking if he held him long enough, he could take the pain away. "I know, Harry."

Draco stroked his hair and his back, basking the feel of his body pressed against his own. Finally, Harry seemed calmer, the tension in his body gone.

The Gryffindor pulled back slightly so he could see Draco's face, biting his lip in concentration.

"I wish we weren't enemies for so long," he said, nuzzling back into Draco's neck. Draco's hand stroking Harry's back stilled suddenly as Draco took in his words.

"No, Harry, you were right to reject me. To hate me," Draco said quietly, suddenly letting in all of his fears and dark thoughts about what he had to do for a master who wished the only person who mattered dead. He had been able to keep the thoughts and fears at bay for the weeks he spent with Harry, living in the perfect fantasy, but now the fear was back and he could feel himself closing off. 

Harry pulled back once more, arms bracketed around Draco’s head as he laid on his back.

"No, I wasn't, you're a good person. I know you now, I see you," Harry said, softly stroking Draco's face as he spoke.

Draco shook his head, not trusting his voice as his throat tightened.

He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve  _ him.  _

"Draco, you can tell me. Please trust me. I know who you are now, you don't have to be that way, you don't have to fight for him,  _ kill _ for him." Draco continued to stare straight up. "I trust you..."

Harry leaned in slightly, smelling the rain and mint that clung to his skin.

"Don't," whispered Draco, their faces an inch away.

"It's going to be okay," murmured Harry, cupping the Slytherin's cheek and leaning in until their lips pressed against one another.

Draco's lips pressed back for half a moment, needing to allow the intense love he felt for the other boy to seep through for just one moment of bliss in his life before deciding to do something selfless for the first time.

He pushed Harry's chest until they broke apart.

"Draco?" Harry asked, wounded deeply.

"You don't want this, Harry, you don't want  _ me _ ."

"Draco... please don't do this..." Harry pleaded, but Draco was already standing.

"It's already done."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo muuuuchhhh annnnnggggssssstt and still more to come mwahahaha. Thanks for reading.


	10. Chapter 10

Draco didn't look back. He knew that if he looked back and saw the pleading forest eyes on him he would be selfish and turn back.

For the first time in his life, he was taking control, even if it meant leaving the one thing that had brought him happiness in so many years.

But he would not be the reason Harry suffered when he inevitably saw Draco for who he truly was. 

Draco would follow through with the plan, even if it meant hurting Harry, because he could not let his family die. 

That was why Draco kept walking. That was why Draco did not look back.

...

Harry didn't move for hours after Draco left. He sat on the unyielding earth, cold without the other's body heat, staring at the space he had occupied.

Harry wanted to scream, to run after him, but he was a prisoner in his own body, helpless to its decisions.

And it didn't want to move.

He thought that if he sat motionless perhaps he'd forget. Perhaps Draco would change his mind. Perhaps.

But Draco did not come back. And his heart did not forget the pain.

So Harry sat, staring at the tiny ripples forming in the lake, seemingly minuscule and meaningless though growing larger as they traveled further.

Harry had no sense of the passing of time, he could have sat there for hours without realizing it, but he turned swiftly at the popping sound of apparition behind him.

He turned sharply, drawing his wand, a small part of him hoping it was Draco returning though he knew they could not apparate on the school grounds. He was swiftly disappointed, however, when he turned to see a sad smile on the face of the Headmaster.

"Harry. You need a shave my friend," and Harry subconsciously touched his cheek. "The place we travel to tonight is exceedingly dangerous."

...

Harry breathed heavily at the top of the astronomy tower, trying to pull Dumbledore's weight with him.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing," he said, trying in vain to urge the professor onward.

"No," the Headmaster said weakly, "no, Severus is who I need..."

Harry was about to protest when each heard footsteps on the large stairwell. Dumbledore continued to lean heavily on the rail, too weak to support his own weight.

"Quickly, Harry, hide yourself below, do not speak a word... no matter what," and Harry bit his lip before nodding at the seriousness on Dumbledore's face.

Harry quietly raced below, able to see and hear the man but unable to be seen. Without audibly casting a spell, Dumbledore cast a silencing and immobility spell on Harry and he was frozen, helpless to what was to come.

Harry felt a rushing of hope and warmth as he saw Draco step to the top level of the astronomy tower but it was immediately doused by the sorrowful expression on his face. His eyes were large and afraid, his mouth set in a grim line. Harry wanted nothing more than to comfort him but could do nothing but watch.

Draco walked up to the professor and Harry listened as Draco struggled with his mission, and slowly Harry became aware as to what was to happen. He longed to scream, to fight, to shake Draco until the boy he knew returned to this gaunt, hollow body. But he could do nothing.

With a shaking hand, Draco raised his wand at the Headmaster, Dumbledore's own wand long since disarmed, and the blonde clearly fought to put on an indifferent face though tears shone in his eyes.

"Let me help you, Draco," Dumbledore said, trying to give the boy one last chance.

"I don't want your help! You can't help me, no one can. I have to do this," Draco said, desperately trying to calm his shaking arm.

_ If you'd let me in, I could have helped you. You don't have to do this, _ Harry longed to say, though the words were frozen on his lips.

Suddenly, Bellatrix, Greyback, and a few other Deatheaters barged through the door, all standing behind Draco. Bellatrix taunted in her usual haunting voice, urging Malfoy to continue.

Greyback snarled something, raising his own wand, and Harry silently pleaded for the Headmaster to do something, anything.

"No," a soft yet powerful voice said, and Harry looked up to see it belonged to Snape. Never in his life had he been so grateful to see the potions master but his happiness disappeared when he too raised his wand. "I made a vow."

"Severus... please," Dumbledore pleaded but the pale face was unmoved.

Two more words escaped Snape's lips before all Hell broke loose. "Avada Kedavra."

...

Draco watched the blast of green light hit the old headmaster, watched as he fell from the rooftop. He stood, unable to move, unable to think.

Suddenly, he was being hauled from the area by the scruff of his collar by Severus, dragged down the steps as his Aunt Bellatrix blasted the dark mark into the sky with an inhuman screech.

Snape didn't say a word, he just kept moving, unrelentingly pulling Draco by the neck.

"He's going to kill me, isn't he," Draco whispered, though he knew his godfather could hear. The phrase was framed as a question though his tone made it obvious he knew the answer.

"Not if I can help it," Snape growled, finally letting some of his emotion show through his mask. They spoke no more, Draco in shock and Snape only able to think about getting the boy out of there alive.

Draco looked up at the castle that had only become a home in the recent weeks. He wanted to stay, to fix the mess he was in but he saw no choice.

"Draco..." Bellatrix drew out the name, enjoying the taste of it on her tongue. "They'll kill you if you stay," she taunted as though reading his thoughts.

They continued to race towards the edge of the school grounds, the sound of pounding feet and maniacal laughing filling Draco's ears.

Snape slowed suddenly, pulling to the back of the group, and Draco slowed with him. He turned to see what the professor was waiting for to see Harry running at them with his wand raised.

For a fleeting moment, their eyes locked, fear evident in Draco's and a burning anger and hatred in Harry's.

"Go on," Snape commanded Draco, but his feet did not move.

"I'm sorry," he whispered though he knew neither man would hear him, but he hoped Harry would understand.

Snape commanded he leave once more and this time Draco obeyed, longingly looking once more to Harry, but his eyes were locked on Snape's, vengeance written on his face.

And Draco ran. He ran from the sounds of curses escaping his love's mouth, ran towards the people he loathed the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter sucks and probably has a gazillion mistakes because I only skimmed to proofread instead of actually reading it because I miss angsty fluff instead of just angsty angsty ugh. So apologies, please let me know if you find any errors. 
> 
> Thanks as always for reading and all the comments and kudos, y'all are amazing!


	11. Chapter 11

Harry awoke to the soft snoring of Ron in the bed across the room. It was his third night staying at the burrow, by now he had gotten used to the somewhat unfamiliar bed. What he hadn't adjusted to was waking up knowing Dumbledore was dead. And that Draco had almost been the one to do it.

He also hadn't grown accustomed to not seeing the blonde daily, not having their encounters to look forward to. His days felt so bleak from the loss. He couldn't believe he had been so wrong about Draco's feelings for him.

Harry had spent weeks agonizing over the half formed relationship they’d had, analyzing every moment, trying to come up with the reasons behind Draco’s actions. Why had he allowed him to hold his hand, why had he tried so often to push him away?

Harry found himself unable to believe that the Slytherin harbored no feelings for him whatsoever, that he was evil through and through. It could not be true.

A part of him said that the blonde had simply played with him, toying with his emotions to distract the savior of the wizard world, but he had seen past the mask. Harry had seen behind the walls Draco kept up, if only for a moment. He knew there was something within him that felt something. Something other than contempt.

Harry shook his head. He would drown in his own sadness if he continued to think of Draco in such a light. Despite what he had felt for him before, the boy was a deatheater. Harry had tried to help him, tried to love him, but he was denied.

The Gryffindor needed to now focus on the task set before him. Harry needed to give up what he loved, who he loved. He needed to put the world above his own happiness. Again.

...

Draco stared at the table, not truly seeing it.

The group of Deatheaters had been meeting at his family's dining table daily now, though Draco heard very little of what was said.

He couldn't think, couldn't feel. He would suffocate from the weight of his actions and his longing for Harry if he allowed himself to think.

Instead, he followed the pattern the wood made of swirls and lines on the mahogany table, trying to resist comparing the color to a certain hair color he knew.

Finally the meeting was ended as the Dark Lord stood, everyone standing immediately with him. Draco hesitated a moment, his mind just returning to the present, but he quickly stood as well, careful to avoid the snake-like eyes of Voldemort.

The Dark Lord smiled sickeningly in a serpentine fashion that made Draco's stomach heave.

"Just wait," Voldemort said, his voice coming out almost with a hiss, "the boy who lived will not live much longer," and with a black cloud of smoke, he disappeared, leaving everyone staring at the place he had just occupied a moment longer.

...

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, had finally left the burrow on their search for horcruxes, though Harry had tried to insist he go alone.

However, after a couple of long days with no progress, he was glad they had come with him. He didn't know what would happen if he wore the locket every hour of every day, and without Hermione's charms, he would have been found by the Deatheaters long before now.

When Ron left, Harry had initially been angry, angry that Ron was being selfish and that he had a family to return to when he didn't. Angry that Ron had broken his word.

But Harry's anger faded as the days wore on and he was in a way glad to know that perhaps, even if Harry didn't survive this, Ron hopefully would.

...

When Ron finally returned, his feelings of anger returned, partly for abandoning him and Hermione but also in part because he was endangering himself once more for Harry.

But the locket was finally destroyed and they now had the tool necessary to destroy the other horcruxes. They were finally making progress.

Now he had to find them.

...

Draco stared at his hollowed face and sallow skin in the mirror behind the sink. He ran his hands under the warm water, trying in vain to remind himself of the warmth Harry's touch had always brought him, trying to make himself feel  _ something. _

Tears slipped silently down Draco's face as he longed for the boy, the boy he would most likely never see again. Unless he was staring at his corpse.

More tears slid down his face and he gripped the edge of the sink harder, knowing he would fall to the ground if he let go.

He hadn't eaten in days, he knew not how long, and he knew he was weak. Too weak to kill Dumbledore. Too weak to stay away from Harry.

Using the scalding water to wash the remnants of tears from his face, Draco stood, toweling off his face and once again placing the somber yet apathetic expression to what was occurring around him.

Exiting the bathroom, Draco heard a sudden commotion on the floor upstairs.

Voices were yelling, he heard the shrill voice of his aunt screeching from where he was. Walking toward it, knowing that it would look suspicious if he avoided it, he walked up the elegant stairs to see Ron and Hermione, both held by deatheaters, wandless.

There was another boy next to them, held and wandless as well, and Draco knew in a heartbeat it was Harry.

He knew not if he recognized the messy hair, the emerald eyes, or simply the scent of Amortentia radiating off of him, but he always seemed to feel it when within the same room as Harry.

Electricity flowed within him, a strength he hadn't felt in months, ran through his racing blood as he found himself unable to look away from him.

Draco walked cautiously to his mother's side, keeping quiet as Bellatrix circled the group, her wand up and jabbing Hermione's cheek.

The whole group looked banged up; Hermione had a split lip with blood trickling down her chin while Ron had multiple cuts on his forehead and cheeks as well as many bruises covering his body.

Harry didn't look anything like himself. His face was swollen as if he had eaten something he was heavily allergic to, though Draco would know the boy anywhere.

Draco quickly cast his eyes forward, avoiding the eye contact he would surely encounter with Harry. He knew the guilt would overcome him if the green eyes probed his heart once more.

"It appears the little  _ mudblood _ cast a stinging curse last," Bellatrix shrieked, tracing her long fingernails behind Hermione, drawing blood along her neck.

The girl resisted the urge to shiver, Draco could tell she was afraid, though she would never show it. Draco admired that.

He looked over to Harry's face, now aware of what had happened to it, and silently thanked Hermione for her quick thinking. He had never been grateful for her presence, even jealous of the friendship she had with Harry, but at this moment he could not have been more thrilled with her.

"Draco!" his aunt called, and he looked swiftly up to his mother who continued to stare straight ahead, unaffected by what was happening. "You went to school with  _ Potter _ ," she spat the name with disgust. "Come to your Auntie and see if this is the boy."

Draco stared at his aunt, not moving as his mind tried to process what she had said. Eventually, his feet dragged him forward.

...

Harry looked straight ahead of him, watching the boy he had thought had loved him approach. Draco refused to look into his eyes, staring at the floor as his feet slowly pulled him forward.

Harry saw something on Draco's face that he had often seen their before: guilt. But he knew not the reason it was there.

Harry didn't know if he wanted the silver eyes to look at him or not; he feared they would betray him once more and that they would cause all of the feelings he had been trying to keep down to surface once more.

The footsteps echoed in the quiet room as everyone held their breath as Draco approached.

Harry held his breath too, fearing that if Draco turned him in, for he surely recognized him, his heart would not be able to take another break. He would not be able to survive.

Harry looked up at the gaunt face walking towards him and his heart hurt, throbbing in his chest. Draco's cheeks had been hollowed, it was obvious he hadn't eaten for days.

The brunet eyed the dark bags beneath Draco's empty eyes, more evidence the boy was not healthy. Harry wanted to scold him, to hold him, tell him everything would be okay. That things still didn't have to be this way.

But Draco had made up his mind when he pushed Harry away, and the Gryffindor knew that.

Another part of him yearned for the other's presence, begging that he continue walking closer so he could smell the mint and rain. Had he not been restrained, Harry might have leapt out and held him close to his chest, whispering his love for him.

Luckily, he was unable to move, unable to feel the rejection once more if he tried to hold Draco again.

Finally Draco's footsteps stopped, only a foot away from Harry, and the Gryffindor resisted the urge to inhale deeply.

He stood silently, hoping, praying, Draco was who he had thought he was before. Even if the Slytherin could never return Harry's feelings, he hoped their entire friendship was not a lie.

"Well?" Bellatrix demanded, interrupting Harry's reverie, "Is it him?"

Draco's eyes finally met his and the warmth and electricity swept through Harry unwillingly. He tried to make it stop but the feelings he had tried to ignore all surfaced at the exact same moment.

Draco's gaze pleaded for something, Harry wasn't sure, almost as if asking for forgiveness? Though Harry knew it couldn't be that, he didn't feel the same about Harry. Their relationship had been false.

Draco breathed deeply through his nose, looking him up and down and Harry knew he recognized him; he could tell by the way he had looked into Harry's eyes, able to see all the way to his soul.

"I don't know," Draco finally replied though his eyes said something very different. The spell was broken however when he looked down once more and walked back to stand with his mother.

Harry didn't stop looking at the hard grey eyes but they never looked at him again, no matter how much Harry silently asked them to.

But his response had been enough for Harry. The words had told him something he hadn't believed in a long while.

Draco cared for him. There was still hope.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck I really need to actually proofread these chapters but I don't like them unless they have drarry so there's probably soooo many mistakes so if you catch some please please let me know. Sorry for the overload of angst, drarry is coming.

Losing Dobby had hit Harry hard. Too many innocent people had sacrificed their lives for this cause, for Harry, and he worried it would all be for nothing.

Seeing Draco in such a state had impacted Harry almost as hard, and he felt as though his lungs were full of ash every time Draco’s gaunt face and hollow eyes haunted him. 

He would have taken the pain of rejection a thousand times over to know that Draco wasn't suffering, wasn't hurting. Seeing Draco looking like an empty husk, a shell of who he had been with Harry had broken him. But he knew he had to continue.

The world depended on him, and though he wished for once someone else could carry on the task, the burden was his to bear.

After mourning the house elf for a few days, Harry knew the group had to continue their search for horcruxes.

...

Seeing Harry hurt Draco more than he would have thought. He had been able to pretend he had successfully pushed Harry away, keeping him safe from growing too attached.

Gods, but why did he always look at Draco like the goddamned sun? Like nothing brought him greater joy than seeing him alive, (just barely)? It was ridiculous, and especially after all that Draco had put him through, all the pain and anguish he had caused? Draco could never deserve a look so hopeful and so thrilled. 

How he was able to keep forgiving Draco, time after time, baffled him. What had Draco ever done to deserve someone so forgiving? Someone so... good?

He knew now Harry would win the war eventually, he had to. When the world needed something of him, he would always deliver. Draco knew that when the war was done and Draco had finally wasted away like the dirt he was, Harry would be able to find someone deserving of his presence, deserving of his love. And that was not Draco.

...

Even though Harry knew he would most likely never see Draco again, or at least never touch and feel him again, he drew comfort in having his wand.

Every night, it was as if Draco's presence was with him before he slept, and he would study the elegant patterns in the wood before he fell asleep.

He could sense Draco's power and presence between his finger tips, filling the void the Slytherin had left the moment he pushed him away.

It was all Harry had left, one of his most valuable possessions to him, and he would do almost anything before giving it up.

...

"It's here...in the castle. It's in the place where everything is hidden. If you have to ask, you will never know, if you know, you need only ask."

Harry stood frozen where he stood, trying desperately to think of what place the diadem was hidden. Realization dawned on Harry's face, and turning quickly to go, he called out his gratitude.

He ran to the Room of Requirement as quickly as his legs would take him, rushing to destroy one of the final horcruxes.

As he entered the door, picturing in his mind's eye what room it was he needed, Hermione and Ron followed him in quickly, catching up to him after destroying the goblet from Bellatrix's vault.

They entered quietly, wondering how they would search the entire place filled with everything ever hidden.

Suddenly, the trio heard footsteps approaching. Searching the room, by some miracle, Harry saw the twinkle of light cast by the diadem.

He was about to reach for it when a voice stopped him.

It belonged to Goyle, leering at him as usual. "Potter."

The trio turned to see Draco, Blaise, and Goyle standing before them. Draco was looking everywhere but at Harry himself and briefly the Gryffindor was brought back to the time at the Malfoy Manor.

He pleaded silently for the silver eyes to look at him once more as he studied the other's fragile appearance, worn from fear and depression. His eyes were dull and sunken, his cheeks even more hollowed than before.

Again, Harry was tempted to reach out to him, bring him back to the man he once knew but knowing it was too late. That man was a figment of Harry's imagination and would never return his feelings.

"You have something that belongs to Draco," Crabbe said threatening. The Slytherin glanced at the wand partially hidden in Harry's pocket. "He wants it back."

Harry removed the wand, feeling the familiar warmth of magic beneath his fingers. It was all that he had left of Draco.

He would not part with it willingly.

He pulled it out slowly, studying the elegant woodwork as he traced the graceful lines with his fingers.

Without taking his eyes off of the wand, Harry murmured with a dead calmness that would make anyone near him shudder, "No."

...

Draco tried to control the shiver that ran down his spine as the word was uttered, and only partially subdued it. He hoped no one had noticed.

The bravery he saw on Harry's face had made his heart swell for him, longing that he had not felt in so long flooding through him at full force.

"Come on, Draco, get 'im," Goyle said, turning to him expectantly. But Draco knew better than to piss of Harry when he was like this. He had a certain strength in his eyes but at the same time a pain so severe he looked almost... broken. He looked exactly how Draco felt.

Draco looked up finally into the emerald eyes he loved, begging Harry to understand how much he felt for him and why he had to do what he did, but he was met with torment and agony.

Draco wanted so desperately to reach out, to hold him in his arms once more, but he stood frozen.

Goyle, as impatient as ever, pulled out his wand, yelling before Draco could stop him, "Avada Kedavra."

Draco's knees almost gave out, his heart clenching and stopping momentarily before he saw that the spell had missed.

Harry and his friends were already running and Draco cried out, desperation clear in his voice though he fought to disguise it.

"Don't kill him! The Dark Lord wants him for himself!"

He saw Harry reach for a crown-like object though he was unable to get a good look at it before he disappeared around a corner.

Before Draco could stop him, Goyle set the entire room ablaze with magical fire, devouring everything in his path.

"You bloody idiot, you're going to get us all killed!" Draco shouted, running in the direction Harry had disappeared, not knowing what he intended to do, but knowing that if anyone was going to get out alive, it would be Harry.

...

Harry's luck saved him once again as the trio found three broomsticks. Grabbing them, they soared swiftly into the air.

As they gained height, trying urgently to locate a way out of the room and away from the flames, they gained sight of the three Slytherins climbing the mountains of stuff to escape the fire that chased them on.

Harry saw the gleam of the diadem and once again swooped down to get it, but Crabbe, climbing on the pile that held the crown, reached for it, knocking it as he lost his footing, causing both the horcrux and himself to fall to their fiery graves.

Harry knew the horcrux had been destroyed as he felt Voldemort's anger as yet another part of him died.

Looking up from where the two had fallen, his mind immediately went to the boy he loved, the boy in immediate danger. The boy who had saved his life even though it could have cost him his own.

Harry's eyes searched the room frantically, finally spotting the platinum hair.

He raced to him, calling for Ron that they needed to save them.

He hurled towards Draco; he needed to save him himself, it was the only way he would know for certain the Slytherin would survive.

Finally reaching him, Harry held out an arm that Draco immediately grabbed, pulling himself onto the back of the broom.

Half a second after Draco was securely on the broom, the pile that had just supported him collapsed, its contents burning with the rest of the room.

As easily as they once had, Draco's arms wound around Harry's waist, a warmth that wasn't caused by the fire spreading through him. Harry flew on, knowing they only had moments before they too would reach their deaths.

He felt something on his upper back and somehow knew Draco had rested his head on Harry's shoulders, trusting his life in the other's hands and his arms held tightly to Harry's waist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all, oh my gosh your comments are all so sweet and so inspiring like I do not have the time to proofread and update a chapter every day and yet... thanks so much for reading!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys be proud of me I actually proofread this entire chapter this time!

The broom landed far too soon for Harry's taste, he had enjoyed having Draco's arms around him for the last time. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so safe, even though in the midst of a terrible war.

When they finally dismounted, they looked into each other's eyes, so many words unspoken, but they were unable to talk at all as Voldemort was still raging his war and it was up to Harry to defeat him.

The trio quickly departed, searching for the final horcruxes to bring down the dark lord.

...

As Harry walked through the forest, he had only one thought, one word that ran through his mind over and over.  _ Draco.  _ He realized that a part of him had known his entire life that he would not live long, though he had never known he would be walking to his death.

There were so many things that made life worth living, but the only thing he could bring himself to miss was the pale boy with the platinum hair. He would miss the feel of wind sweeping through his hair as he dove for the snitch, he would miss Hermione's laugh and Ron's chuckle when one of them made a joke, but he would leave all of those joys behind if it meant tasting the Slytherin's lips one last time.

But Harry had a task that had been set before him since birth, and so had Draco, but their paths crossed and conflicted, and Harry knew that the time they would spend together had already passed.

Closing his eyes for a moment as he imagined his fingers tangling in the fine pale hair on Draco's head as their lips softly collided, Harry took another step forward and resigned himself to his death.

...

There were no words for Draco as he saw the limp body being carried by the half giant. His hollow heart pounded in his chest, his frail body limp from agony of a truth that could not be so.

He can't be dead. He couldn't.

But Draco knew. He knew that nothing he loved in his life could last, and Harry was too pure and good to survive in the world Draco knew.

The wind seemed to be sucked entirely from his lungs and his heart ceased to beat, for who would it beat for now? He barely managed to keep his knees from giving way as his world crumpled around him, and Draco felt nothing.

There was no life in his body, no breath in his chest, nothing to keep him from crumpling where he stood.

The final part of Draco had been destroyed, broken, the part Harry had tried so desperately to fix, and Draco was nothing more than a hollow shell.

That is, until the corpse that was once the person that mattered the most to him fell out of Hagrid's arms.

...

"Harry!" Draco had shouted, not Potter or any other name. Harry.

His heart had surged with emotion, both relief that Draco was still alive and well and that perhaps there was still hope of repairing what they had. Then Draco's wand was flying through the air towards Harry, who swiftly caught it thanks to his seeker reflexes. Draco's wand, the wand Harry seemed to use for so long, the wand that pulsed with Draco's energy, once again secure in Harry's tight grip.

Spells immediately began flying through the air, jets of red and green flashing on both sides, and Harry automatically put up a shielding spell while fighting a relieved smile. How Draco, with a single action, was able to make Harry smile in the midst of fighting the dark lord was beyond him.

Harry pulled Draco behind him and the shield, firing spell after spell in the direction of the flash that had narrowly missed Draco's hand. It was one thing to fire at Harry, but it was another to curse Draco, wandless and defenseless.

Harry swiftly took Draco's hand and apparated him deep into the castle where he hoped he would be safe before immediately disapparating back to the battlefield, once again joining the fight and leaving Draco completely alone.

...

Harry sat alone in an armchair by the fire in Grimmauld Place but felt no warmth reaching his body. Lupin and Tonks and Fred were gone along with countless others who gave their lives to a cause that had finally ended.

Voldemort was gone and it was easy to see the relief and grief on everyone's face. Everyone, except Harry. He couldn't tear his mind from those they had lost. His family was gone, nearly all of the adults he had looked up to in the latter part of his life were dead, just like his parents. He was grateful, so endlessly grateful that he still had Ron and Hermione, and though he fought not to think about it, Draco was still alive too.

Harry had heard of the trials, participating as a witness in that of Narcissa Malfoy's and of course Draco's, pleading that the woman had saved his life and without her the war would have been lost, and Draco was only a boy, a boy who had given so much to the war, so much of his humanity, yet still was able to help Harry when he needed it most.

In the end, each were let off free, unlike Lucius who would serve a life sentence in Azkaban.

After the trials had been dismissed and the courtroom began to clear, Harry called Draco's name twice, running in an attempt to catch up to him but the crowd was too thick and Draco didn't turn back.

...

Days passed with relative quiet in the Malfoy Manor as Narcissa attempted to remove all memories of Voldemort's presence from the place they had once called a home.

Draco felt as though he was being torn from within, wanting so desperately to forget the war and grab Harry and hold him until the tears had finally left his body, and with them the crushing sadness that haunted him.

He wanted to hold him in his arms once more, even if it was only for a moment, even if it was the last time Draco would ever see him, he wanted it with his entire being.

But at the same time, he knew he had been selfish for far too long, enjoying the pleasures that were Harry Potter back when Dumbledore had still been alive and dreaming endlessly about how his life would have changed had he not pulled away from the one person who saw the good in him. The good that no longer existed.

He was done being selfish. Draco had changed during the war, broken beyond repair, and he would not hurt Harry anymore than he already had. He would stay away, even though every ounce of his blood, body, and heart told him to do the opposite.

...

Harry didn't leave the old Black home for three days after the trials. It was obvious Draco didn't want to see him, and though he had saved him during the crucial moments during the war, Harry knew that Draco’s actions were out of guilt and not something more.

To avoid such thoughts Harry drowned himself in a bottle of firewhiskey throughout the day and night, often sleeping from the first hours of the morning until late afternoon.

Hermione and Ron visited and tried to convince him to leave the house but it was no use. Hermione could tell there was something bothering Harry more than simply the war but it was something he would need to get through on his own. She told him that he could talk any time he needed to, but she knew to give him space for the time being.

Harry was tempted to return the wand once again to Draco but he selfishly thought it was all he would ever have left of him. He could barely muster the strength to stay away from him as he so clearly wanted, but giving away the wand would be like giving up all he had left.

Sighing, Harry tipped the bottle of firewhiskey toward the ceiling, trying to get the few drops that remained. This is what he had come to, the savior of the wizarding world, the one able to defeat Voldemort himself now unable to defeat the horrors of alcoholism.

Hermione was right. He needed to end his self pity party and do something to distract himself from the nightmares... and from Draco. For this reason, the next time Hermione came to Grimmauld Place in an attempt to convince Harry to help rebuild Hogwarts, he relented and joined the couple.

Hermione and Ron decided to help with the repairs in the dining hall but Harry wanted to go somewhere more...private. For one thing, he was tired of the many concerned or awed stares from the many people at Hogwarts helping. He needed to get away.

But Harry also couldn't be around Ron and Hermione together for a long period of time. As happy as he was that they had finally accepted their budding romance, unwanted thoughts of another time and another person came unbidden into his mind when he was with them.

He wanted to be somewhere that people wouldn't try to make forced conversation with him, somewhere that there was enough work to be done that few people would be able to talk.

"I'm going to go help with the Room of Requirement," Harry said quietly to the pair. "I'll meet you back here at three," he said and left after Hermione's concerned nod.

Half jogging to avoid the numerous people, Harry strode in front of the entrance of the Room he sought three times before a door appeared for him. He opened the large door, expecting to see blackened piles of ash but was surprised to behold a room nearly devoid of all objects. A few tables had clearly been moved into the room but there was no other furniture, only large pillars that cut through the room intermittently.

The walls were still blackened from the fire and Harry was relieved that there was something still that he could do to help the school without being a part of the crowds.

He raised his wand, Draco's wand, and began to murmur spells to remove the charred edges from the walls. Harry began to make his way around the room but as he rounded another pillar he was surprised to see he wasn't alone as he thought he was.

He deliberated only a moment before calling out the name softly, knowing that in the quiet room he would hear him. "Draco." The blonde stopped his movements, standing up from where he had been bending over, but remained with his back to Harry.

The Gryffindor approached slowly, almost fearing that if he was too fast or too loud, the blonde would disappear yet again. So many questions and thoughts whirled around Harry's head at impossible speeds, Harry tried to grasp one to begin with.

Unable to formulate a thought that would express all of the turmoil Harry felt seeing the blonde head, he instead said lamely, "I didn't know you'd be here."

Draco turned to face him now and nodded, avoiding the piercing gaze of brilliant green eyes that he knew bore into his skull. He would never take back what he did, saving Harry was the best decision of his life, but he knew that could never redeem him or make Draco worthy of the Boy Who Lived.

Harry furrowed his brow and cocked his head slightly, trying to search the cold grey eyes for the boy he had known. They were a foot apart, the slight scent of Amortentia growing until it was almost overwhelming Harry.

Never before had either felt at such a loss for words, knowing the silence had to be broken and so many words had to be shared but neither knowing how to even begin.

Harry, never very articulate, especially with so many thoughts rushing through his head, decided to begin by stating the obvious. "You saved my life," Harry said, and though he knew that there was good in the Slytherin and that was why he had ended up betraying the Dark Lord, Harry had to hear him say out loud that it wasn't for feelings harbored for Harry. He knew with all his heart that what he had felt had been one sided and though Draco had not been evil, as Harry had known, he had so clearly misjudged the feelings he had thought they shared.

Draco nodded once more in response to the statement, still not having spoken a word.

"Why?" It was one word yet it held so many unanswered questions within it. Why had he been friends with him, and why did he push Harry away? Why did he stay with Voldemort? Why did he save his life? Why did Harry fear he was falling in love with him?

"Voldemort had to lose," Draco began, attempting to clear his tight throat, "I realized that too late. You were the only one who could beat him."

So he hadn't saved him for feelings for Harry. Simply because he saw him as the rest of the world did; the Chosen One. Harry looked away for a moment, trying to let the words sink fully and Draco mourned the saddened expression on his face.

But Harry should have known. He was too much of an optimist, he knew, but that small hope, that small bit of doubt that perhaps he wasn't the only one was the last thing Harry had.

Before Harry could say his goodbyes, Draco interrupted the silence first. "What about you?" he asked quietly.

"What," Harry asked, unsure of what all Draco was questioning about.

"Why did you save me... a deatheater?" Draco looked guiltily down at his feet and shifted his stance nervously. Bravery had never been his strong suit and it had taken all the courage he had to ask the question. But what did he have to lose now?

Harry paused, stepping forward and closing the gap between them slightly before he found the right words. "Dray," he began, and the blonde looked up and met the piercing gaze of the Gryffindor, surprised at the intensity of the look, somewhere a mix between anger and empathy. "You were never a deatheater to me. I know you have no reason to believe me... but I could never let you die," he shook his head at the thought, trying to rid his mind of the horrible images that flowed there.

When he did look up, Draco nodded slightly, not trusting his voice.

"Was any of it real? What...we had?" Harry asked hesitantly.

Draco looked so heartbroken at the words, grief welling in his eyes. Harry looked down another moment, before glancing up to see the grey eyes darken with remorse, shining beneath unwilling tears.

"No."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I made myself sad. Oh well. The war is over yay!
> 
> Also, holy fuckin crap the amount of amazing comments is staggering, each one gives me life, thank you thank you thank you guys so much for the comments, kudos and reading. You guys are the best. Until next time


	14. Chapter 14

"No."

Harry's gaze fell to the floor, anguish welling in the green depths even though it was the answer he had expected. Draco's stomach clenched fiercely at his broken expression but he could not take it back, no matter how false the lie had been. It was better for Harry. He fought the words begging Harry to understand, to stay with him, because Draco was so selfish and wanted so desperately to be with Harry forever.

Harry nodded in understanding, looking back up at the grey eyes cool as glass that looked as though they had shattered. "I thought so," he murmured and Draco longed to reach out to him, to profess his feelings. "I'm sorry that I mistook your kindness for... something else. I can never repay you for what you and your mother did for me. I hope you can find happiness, Malfoy," he said and began to turn away, the single word the final wall he put up between them.

Draco's heart broke at the word, the name he hated most about himself and the darkness it had represented. "Harry," he pleaded, reaching out to him but Harry took a step back with his hands raised in front of him.

"Goodbye, Draco," he said and walked out of the room without another word.

...

Draco couldn't move from where he stood. Minutes or hours could have passed, he was unaware, a numbness he had felt ever since becoming a deatheater during his sixth year returned in full force and he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him.

Eventually, he crumpled to his knees and tore at the cloth hiding his forearm. His clothing feeling too tight and hot for his body, he tore off the sleeve and stared at the pale silver mark that still branded his skin and would do so for the rest of his life.

The mark showed everyone who he was, what he was, especially himself whenever he needed reminding. He would always be a deatheater and Harry would always be out of his reach.

...

Harry's heart felt heavy in his chest as he left the room, trying to only focus on moving his feet.

He felt hollow inside, the despair he had felt since the war returning in full force, making him want to fall on his hands and knees and sob until he had no more sound in his body. But instead he kept moving, trying not to feel.

He was walking down the steps to the castle so he could leave the grounds and apparate but Hermione caught sight of him.

"Harry?" she called, jogging over to him. "Are you alright?"

Harry did his best to put on a brave face and keep his emotions within. "Yeah," he said, scratching the back of his head. "I'm just...really tired, I think I'll head back now, alright? Sorry, 'Mione," he added when he caught sight of her concerned expression.

Her lips pursed but she nodded without argument. "Alright, Harry. When you're up to it, we've been eating dinners at the Burrow on Fridays. You should join us."

Harry nodded but didn't meet her eyes. He couldn't tell her he couldn't sit at a table with one empty chair and an abundance of people who had sacrificed so much for him.

She squeezed his arm reassuringly and he continued to walk off of the grounds of Hogwarts.

...

Draco stared at the faded mark on his arm, drowning in self loathing for what felt like hours. He was fighting two parts of himself, two seemingly equal in strength: the selfish and the selfless.

He couldn't let it end this way. He had told himself it would be easier for Harry to believe it hadn't been real, that his feelings hadn't been returned, but he could see how the lie had broken them both.

Even if he could never be with the other, he could not allow him to believe he had been pretending. He could not make Harry feel foolish and worthless like that. Draco had to make it right, to set him straight, before he left him forever.

Shakily getting to his feet, he stood and brushed the dust off, marching to the door.

He searched the castle for Harry, doubting he would still be there but he didn't know where else he could look. There was no way in hell he would go looking for him at the Burrow, imagining the look on Weasel's face when he came looking for Harry was enough to persuade him to avoid that option. But where else would he be?

He was just about to give up and head back to the manor when he spotted the back of a bushy brown head.

"Granger!" he shouted to her, grateful to find that she was alone.

She turned sharply, eyebrows pursed when she recognized the voice. When she saw it was the Slytherin, her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Granger, uh, Hermione, do you know where I can find Harry?" he asked, slightly out of breath from running all over the castle. He hadn't noticed that he had uttered Harry's first name but it did not go unrecognized by Hermione.

"May I ask why you need to see him so urgently?" She was worried for her friends well-being, especially after had left in such a hurry that day. She hadn't known Draco would be there but she wondered if he had anything to do with Harry's sudden exit.

Draco looked at the floor worriedly, staring at his laces, anywhere but her piercing gaze. Hermione had never seen Malfoy in such a state before, and the fact that he had called him Harry, almost as if they were friends...as if he was worried about him.

"I just... really need to speak to him. Please," he added hastily, still avoiding her eyes. Hermione couldn't explain it but she knew there must have been a good reason for this encounter. Perhaps those trips to the hospital wing weren't as meaningless as they had seemed.

"Alright," she finally replied quietly. "Let me go tell Ron where I'm going, I'll be right back."

"Hermione!" he called before she could fully turn to go. "Please just, don't tell him you're helping me."

She gave him a quizzical look but no response before leaving him there in search of Ron.

...

Harry was dozing on the couch with a half empty bottle of firewhiskey in his hand when he heard the knock at the door. At first he ignored it, figuring if it was someone important they would floo him instead.

The knocking persisted, however, and Harry's drunken anger rose. "I'm not buying!" he shouted and the banging ceased for another moment before returning once more, louder than before.

"For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself, laying back on the couch and searching for his wand to cast a  _ Silencio _ .

"Potter, open the bloody door you prick!" he heard a familiar voice shout and his heavy heart beat wildly in his chest for a moment before his brain, sluggish from the alcohol, caught up.

Hastily, he stood, carefully finding his feet as the room swam before him. He carried the whiskey with him in his haste, too anxious to see if it was who he had hoped. Quickly, he swung open the door to a worried Draco Malfoy, an expression both condescending and anxious in a way that only he could pull off.

"You're here," Harry said shocked, quickly blinking as the wonderful image swayed in his vision.

"Ever the articulate one, Potter. And you're drunk," Draco responded, and though the words were insulting, undertones of concern carried through though he fought to keep them hidden.

"What are you doing here?" Harry said tiredly instead of coming up with a retort, the strength it took to remain standing slowly weighing on him.

Now Draco appeared more guilty than worried as he searched for an appropriate response. "I needed to speak with you, I don't like how we left things today. But seeing how you're probably not going to remember any of this tomorrow, I should head back," he said quickly, taking a step back and turning away from the door still standing ajar.

Harry leaned heavily on the frame, and Draco suddenly felt a fresh amount of empathy wash through him as he saw the both physically and emotionally exhausted boy in front of him.

"Dray," Harry murmured, not knowing what else to say but knowing it was pointless to try to get him to stay. Suddenly, his hold on the door slipped and he stumbled forward, searching for something to break his fall as he hurtled towards the steps.

Luckily, Draco's seeker reflexes kicked in and before he could realize what he had done, he had caught Harry by the body, holding him to his chest as the dark haired boy nestled his head under Draco's chin.

The Slytherin pressed his cheek against the top of Harry's head without thinking, enjoying the familiar scent of his shampoo and the soft feel of thick, messy locks against his face.

Harry, finally realizing what had occurred, attempted to right himself, blood rushing to his face.

"Sorry," he mumbled but as he attempted to stand his knees nearly gave way once more had Draco not been still holding on to him. The blonde merely tightened his hold around Harry and helped him up the stairs, taking the bottle of firewhiskey from his grasp.

"I think you've had enough for today," he said quietly, leading him slowly through the doorway and placing the bottle on the table in the hall.

Harry grunted but said nothing, knowing it was pointless now to argue. He led him slowly to the couch, one arm slung around his waist as he slowly lowered the other into a seated position.

"You need to sleep this off. I should get going." He turned to leave once more but was stopped by a warm grip on his wrist. Harry looked down embarrassed and removed his hand.

"Draco," he started before he could walk away, "Talk about something?" Draco smiled softly out how young Harry looked as his emerald eyes pleaded with him not to go.

Draco sighed and said, "It can wait."

Harry hummed softly. The alcohol was blurring his mind but it also lent him strength, the courage he needed to speak. "Can you stay?" The green eyes were on him again and Draco wanted to look away, wanted so desperately to say no and leave the other forever but the heart is a powerful thing.

He sighed once more in defeat and sat beside Harry, the Gryffindor scooting slightly closer in a way that tried and failed to be discreet. But Draco found it endearing. "Did you drink all of that whiskey?" he asked admonishing but couldn't bring himself to feel disappointed in the other. Only worry.

"Jus’ halfa bottle," Harry trailed off, his eyes lowering in shame. When Hermione, Mrs. Weasley, or anyone else for that matter had reprimanded him for his drinking, he had been able to dismiss and ignore it. But when Draco had said the words full of pain Harry had felt a shame he had never known.

"Just," Draco repeated sarcastically, a small smile dancing on his lips. Harry's world was tipping once more and he leaned on Draco's shoulder for support and the blonde sat frozen, not wanting to discourage him from staying right there forever.

Before he could stop himself, he turned his head and brushed his lips against the thick hair that rested there. He assured himself that Harry would remember nothing and this was his only opportunity to ever do such a thing.

"Why were you drinking," he murmured against Harry's forehead. Harry rested there for a moment, trying to gather his murky thoughts to lead him back to the reason he had been drinking, the reason he had been trying to forget.

Unable to say 'everyone died because of me and you were my only hope for happiness left and now you're gone too,' Harry instead gave him the reason he had drunk for the weeks following the war.

"War's over," he began quietly, still not removing his head from Draco's shoulder, "but it doesn't feel like it, and I'm afraid it never will." Admitting the truth was sobering somehow, or maybe it was simply the giddy feeling of being close to Draco again. 

Harry lifted his head and implored the silver eyes to understand. He was having difficulty explaining himself, especially with alcohol jumbling his thoughts. He shifted away slightly, suddenly self conscious of their proximity, staring down out at his entwined fingers.

Draco's shoulder felt cold with the loss of heat but he knew that it was for the best seeing as he couldn't think clearly with the other boy so close.

"So many people died for me, and so many more almost did. You could have died, Draco. How could I possibly live with myself if you died?" He was still staring at his own hands, wishing that things were different and he could return to the time where he wasn't afraid to reach across and grasp Draco's hand in his own.

But those days had long since passed.

Or so he thought.

Draco didn't know what to say, didn't know how to express that dying for Harry would have been the greatest thing he could ever have done with his life. But that was not what Harry wanted hear, and this he knew.

Instead, he grasped Harry's hands in his lap, squeezing them to convey the understanding he could not put into words.

"They didn't die for you, Harry. They died for something they believed in, something they thought was worth the sacrifice. For once in your life stop being such a self-pitying Gryffindor and realize that not everything is about you." He gave a half smirk in an attempt to lift Harry's spirit, and the small smile he received in return made his stomach flutter with relief.

"I guess it is a little self-centered," Harry mumbled before yawning heavily, the weight of the day's events settling over him.

Draco's smiled at how boyishly handsome the Gryffindor was when he yawned like a sleepy child.

"Thank you," Harry said, squeezing the hands still holding his own, "for staying," and before he could stop himself he closed the distance and pulled Draco into an embrace, tucking his head perfectly under the Slytherin's chin once more as he squeezed him tightly.

Draco hesitated only a moment before wrapping his arms around the other's back, gently stroking it as he leaned backward as the Gryffindor slowly rested his weight on him.

Eventually, he laid entirely back with Harry sprawled on top of him, his arms wrapped protectively around the other as Harry breathed deeply, his breaths becoming more and more relaxed as sleep began to take him.

And Draco could not find it within his heart to wake him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final-fuckin-ly.


	15. Chapter 15

Draco watched as the afternoon sun slowly set, slanting the thread of light that entered through the curtained windows more and more until it was gone. He listened to the sounds of Harry's heavy breathing for hours, gently running his hand up and down the other's back as he slept, taking comfort in the fact that Harry would never know.

He had removed the glasses slanted on his face soon after Harry had fallen asleep, admiring how open his face appeared without the obstacle. How he longed to look once more into the deep forest of his eyes without the glass between them

He fought the lull of sleep for as long as he could, playing with the hair tucked under his chin, feeling as the breaths moved the body lying on top of him. He could not imagine a happier feeling. Harry was so peaceful in his sleep, gripping Draco's shirt almost like a child, his grasp at times tightening and loosening, though always seeming to bring them closer.

Try as he might, however, the power of sleep became too great and eventually he was forced to succumb, breathing deeply in the scent of the wind the other boy always carried with him.

...

Though Draco fell asleep hours after Harry had, he awoke first in the same position they had been lying in before. Harry was snuggling into his chest, holding him almost like a pillow in a way that made Draco feel so needed and so loved.

He resumed his hobby of running his fingers through Harry's hair, never tiring of the soft feeling between his fingertips.

Harry's face was tilted slightly upwards now, allowing Draco to see the slight flutter beneath closed lids and the twitching of soft lips he wanted to feel again. Slowly, to be sure not to wake him, Draco ever so slightly brushed his fingertips over the full lips, memorizing their texture while imagining how they had felt against his own.

He shook himself slightly, he mustn't have such thoughts with Harry right on top of him. He needed to keep in mind why he had come in the first place. He was there because Harry needed him, that was it. He could not let himself be sucked in again.

As he inwardly chastised himself for foolish thoughts, a small part of him, a tiny voice, was reminding him that Harry would most likely not awaken for hours. Judging by the amount of light in the room, the sun hadn't yet risen and Harry would need to sleep off much of the alcohol.

For this reason, Draco allowed himself to return into the easy sleep with his love in his arms.

When Draco awoke again, the room was lighter, late in the morning by the brightness of the fragment of light seeping through the dreary curtains. It was no wonder Harry had felt so alone in such a place; the home, if one could even call it that, was dark and depressing, dusty and unkempt. He hoped that before he left Harry he could convince him to take care of himself.

Draco was lost in thoughts of what he was going to say to the other boy and how he was going to say it when he was reminded of the cause of his awakening.

He had been awoken by a low sound and a shake, though he hadn't realized at the time. Not until it was repeated.

...

Voldemort was standing over a body, fiddling with the elder wand between long fingers. Harry could not see the face nor the head, Voldemort was blocking his view, but he knew upon seeing the corpse that it was someone he knew.

His chest tightened and Harry fought to breathe, fearing if he inhaled too sharply the Dark Lord would hear him. He fought down the breaths of fear, trying to only see Voldemort's face, to know what he was planning, when Tom Riddle took a step back, revealing a body with a Slytherin tie and silver hair.

Harry could control himself no longer and was suddenly running towards him, about to fling himself upon the corpse when the room around them changed, no longer an empty field, but instead the boys lavatory.

As he ran, Voldemort disappeared, leaving Harry in the place he had just occupied. Harry pulled out his wand, trying to think of  _ something _ that would save this boy, but his wand was not his own. It held so much power, feeling as though it could overwhelm him.

It was the elder wand, and a pale, long-fingered hand that was not his own held it in his fingertips, black cloak spreading on the ground behind him.

A mirror appeared next to Draco's body with a sink and Harry could see the red-eyed snake face of Lord Voldemort himself, now his own face. He touched himself, unable to believe that this was who he was, but the Voldemort in the mirror followed his every move, even when Harry flung himself down beside Draco's corpse.

However the body was no longer still; it had large gashes sliced across his chest and abdomen as blood ran out too rapidly to heal.

"No, Gods, no, not again, Draco," Harry said, pushing on the wounds to try to stop the bleeding but all it did was stain his hands in the thick red. "Draco, you have to wake up!" he cried out, begging the other to stay with him.

Soft pink lips moved and Harry leaned in close to hear what they said.

"Harry, wake up."

...

Harry sobbed deep in his throat, a sound so broken it automatically tightened Draco's arms around him. Harry's body twitched again, his eyelids fluttering rapidly and he was clearly distressed about something occurring in his dream.

Harry cried out again and this time, Draco gently shook his shoulders, attempting to bring him out of his nightmare.

"Harry," he whispered, pushing his hair off of his forehead where sweat had weighed it down. "Harry, wake up" he repeated, shaking him once more. A tear slipped out of Harry's closed eyes as he made another noise of sorrow when the eyes flickered open, emerald orbs searching wildly in Draco's for an answer he didn't have.

His eyes were moist and terrified, and they rapidly darted from eye to eye on Draco's face before focusing suddenly as Harry appeared to realize where he was and who he was on top of.

Hesitation abandoned him as the wild fear of his dream drove him forward, lending him the courage that rational thought would have persuaded him to avoid. Harry quickly closed the small distance between their two faces, desperately pressing his lips hard against Draco's as if in an effort to assure himself that he was real, and he was there.

Adrenaline rushed through his body as electricity zinged in his veins. He felt as though every nerve was on fire and he could feel everything, everything stemming from the intense heat of Draco's mouth frantically pushing against his own. Harry's arms reached around Draco's neck, pulling at the shorter, silky locks at the base of his head as he pulled them impossibly closer.

Draco had unhesitatingly wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders and returned the kiss, pressing his lips against Harry's with the same ferocious frenzy as adrenaline rushed through him.

The kiss itself was so very brief, nowhere near as long as either of them would have liked with more than a year to make up for, but it was like giving a starving man a piece of bread for the first time in days, something that felt entirely vital though nowhere near enough.

Harry pulled away, pushing at Draco's chest almost as soon as their lips had met, his mind finally catching up to him and making him realize the error in what he had done.

"Fuck," he said quietly, unable to tear his eyes from the open silver ones shining before him. Never before had the eyes seemed so open, so hopeful and Harry wanted to fall into their depths. "Fuck, Draco, I'm so sorry, that was so stupid," he mumbled, mentally kicking himself for his actions without thought.

He stood from the couch, wanting to put as much distance between them as he could. Draco opened his mouth to say something but Harry held up his hands.

"No, Draco, that's okay, I know. I know you can never feel the same for me, but I don't know if I can pretend for a second longer that I don't feel something more towards you. It would kill me everyday to see you and not touch you, Dray. I'm sorry to put you in this position but... I don't see another way. You were right to leave me." Harry wanted to stop the heavy flow of words tumbling from his lips but the dam had been broken along with his already tender heart. "I'm sorry."

Draco stood with him, unable to cope with the separation when they had been so close only a moment before. The two parts were telling him opposite things again, but this time he knew who to listen to.

"Harry, listen to me. This is why I came here, please believe me when I say this, but I thought it would be for the best if you believed I didn't... feel anything for you. I thought it would make it easier for you to live your life. But I know I can't let you believe… believe that you're unwanted or... Harry, I've wanted you since I was eleven, and truthfully, that still hasn't changed. I came to tell you because you deserve so much more than what I can offer. I'm a snobbish prick and I've treated you like an arsehole for so long. And you deserve to find someone better, and I know you will. But I needed you to know."

Harry stood with his mouth agape for what felt like several seconds, opening and closing as he tried to find the right words but could not. "That's fucking bollocks," was what he finally decided on.

Draco gave a half smirk though sadness shone through his eyes. "Ever the articulate one, Potter."

Harry laughed slightly but it was low in his throat hearing his surname on the other man's lips.

"I am a bit prone to action, I will admit. Especially around you," Harry added, blushing.

Draco's smirk widened into a smile at the lovely color, conveying without words what he already knew.

"I hadn't noticed," Draco began sarcastically, taking a small step towards Harry. "I had always pegged you for the 'sit quietly and think it all through first' type of bloke."

Harry chuckled once more. "You know me pretty well, I must say," Harry said to continue their joke, but Draco could hear the undertones of truth that rang through.

"Harry I'm really trying to not be selfish for once and let you go, but it's incredibly difficult with you constantly running into me or needing saving." Though he said the words with humor beneath them, within Harry could hear the silent plea to help him, to make the decision for him.

"You've never given yourself enough credit," Harry murmured, closing the gap even more by taking another small step. "You pretend to hold yourself above all others but I know you too well, Dray. You don't need to hide from me, and you don’t need to stay away. You don't see yourself the way I see you, and what I know is that you make me happier than any person I have ever known. I know you think for some ridiculous reason that I deserve better than you, but I don't care about deserve or anything of the sort. What I do care about is that I need you, and if you truly feel the same, then I hope you'll let yourself be happy with me. You deserve to find happiness, Draco."

Harry had found his Gryffindor courage for just a moment, not caring how his words would be taken because they needed to be said, Draco needed to know. The Slytherin still said nothing, searching for the falsehood that surely was hidden in the words too good to be true. But all he saw in Harry's eyes was warmth and honesty that made his heart tighten and his face warm.

Harry had closed the distance between them and they were nearly chest to chest, Draco feared Harry would feel his hammering heart. Harry grasped Draco's hands in his own.

"Where is your articulate nature now?" he asked teasingly but trepidation was hidden in his eyes.

Draco shook his head, unable to control himself any longer, and he removed his hands from Harry's, a fleeting look of disappointment flashing across the Gryffindor's face before surprise took its place as Draco's warm hands grasped at taught shoulders and the back of Harry's neck as he pulled their bodies together, harshly pressing his lips to Harry's.

A moan emerged from the Gryffindor, deep in his throat and Draco's stomach tightened with arousal. They kissed with wild abandon, passionate frenzy as they attempted to make up for years of waiting.

Harry pulled harshly at the hair at the nape of Draco's neck, pushing his lips harder with bruising strength but neither could find it within themselves to care, all that there was in that brief second was lips against lips, body against body.

Draco could feel a hard bulge pressing into his hip as their passion took hold, and he was certain he returned the favor. Harry pressed gently on Draco's chest when the backs of his knees hit the couch and he was forced to sit, Harry immediately straddling his lap as the kiss became deeper, tongues exploring the intricacies of each other's mouth in a fight for dominance.

Draco placed his hands on Harry's hips and gripped them roughly as he pulled the other's body closer to his own. He felt as though Harry could feel exactly where every nerve was in his mouth, bursting with bright light every time Harry swiped them with his tongue.

Harry's hands moved from Draco's taught chest to his neck once more, feeling, pulling, and grasping at the strong shoulders that held him close. Their cocks rubbed together in pants that had fit the day before, now tight to the point of pain. They were frantic in their lust, passionately grinding against one another as arousal became all they knew.

There was something so incredibly erotic about kissing a man, something so hard and strong, a fire that Harry had never felt before. He was caught up in the scent and musk, everything that was entirely  _ Draco. _ It was intoxicating.

Eventually, the need for air prevailed and they broke apart, panting as their foreheads rested against the other's.

"Fuck," Harry murmured again, and Draco chuckled breathlessly.

"You are a man of many words," he said as air continued to fill his lungs, running his thumb along Harry's kiss-swollen lower lip.

Harry grinned and placed a gentle kiss on the tip of a sharp nose that had looked down at him so long ago. "How am I supposed to think coherently enough to form words when you're around," he replied, laughing and rolling his eyes. "You're a bit...distracting," he finished, pressing his hips into Draco's suggestively as he was still straddling his lap.

Draco groaned as his head hit the couch, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed thickly. Harry nibbled at the now exposed neck, tendons becoming taught as pleasure ran through Draco's body.

Harry barely ran his teeth over the muscle where Draco's neck met his shoulder, biting gently before trailing upwards with teeth and tongue and gently grazed his earlobe. Draco took in another shuddering breath before grasping onto the thick locks on the back of Harry's head and gently tugging him off.

"Harry," he whispered sighing. "Harry," he said more forcefully this time. "We should stop."

Harry pulled back slightly, warm breath dancing on this still exposed neck. "And why should we do that?" he asked breathlessly, his words just kissing the shell of his ear.

"Don't get me wrong," Draco said smirking as he fought to slow his labored breaths. He gently placed his hands on both sides of Harry's face, pulling him up to look him in the eyes. "There is nothing in this world that I would rather do, but if we continue I don't know if I'll be able to stop."

He placed a chaste kiss to his forehead before descending lower and nibbling on his jaw, making Harry's thoughts disintegrate until the only thing in his head were Draco's lips and teeth on his skin.

Draco finished by again placing a brief kiss on the pink area he had been nipping and backing away, leaving Harry breathless.

Harry shook his head, trying to clear his muddled thoughts and bring himself to focus on the issue at hand. "I don’t see the problem with that," he said, smiling mischievously, but when Draco’s eyes remained serious his face darkened. “What does this mean then?” he asked seriously, a hint of worry in his voice. "I don't think I can do... whatever we were doing before. I keep thinking that you want this as much as I do but... I don't think I could stand it if you pushed me away. Not again."

Draco nodded in understanding, gnawing a lip as trepidation lurked on his face. He grasped Harry's hands in his own.

"I don't think I could either. I'm a selfish person as you know. I like to get what I want. And Harry," he said, lifting the Gryffindor's chin with one finger and forcing the green eyes to look at him, still open and unguarded without the glasses hiding his face, "I've wanted this for a very long time."

Harry was unable to hide his smile of relief and he gently squeezed the hand still holding his own. The words had solidified his knowledge but he still was nervous to once again make the first move, fear of being rejected once again flaring brightly in his mind now that he didn't have the alcohol or adrenaline to lend him the courage.

Draco leaned in slowly, nervous and almost exposed; he had never laid all of his feelings out for someone before, though he knew that he wanted Harry to know. The gap between their faces was slowly narrowing and Draco let go of Harry's hand to cup his cheek gently, softly stroking his thumb across the soft skin and Harry reflexively leaned into the touch, reveling in the warmth that spread there.

All of Draco's movements were slow and gentle, the complete opposite of their harsh and erratic movements before. He marveled as the flesh beneath his finger heated, and he smiled knowing that he was the cause of it.

His thumb trailed slowly up, tracing across Harry's swollen lips in a need to simply  _ feel,  _ to know that he was here and this was real. Achingly slowly, he closed the remaining distance between them and gently placed his lips against Harry's, slowly molding them against his own as they both  _ felt.  _ The hand remained cupping Harry's cheek while another wound around to the back of his neck as his thumb stroked there too.

Harry responded to the kiss, slowly opening up more and more as though his body was a puppet that only Draco knew the strings of. He held the hard shoulders to him, feeling the great spanse of lean muscle that spread across his back.

It was no longer a kiss of fire and frenzy, it was a kiss of calm, of healing, each of them sensuously exploring each other's mouth.

Harry was the first to pull back, his eyes hooded slightly. Draco leaned forward to close the gap once more but Harry held him off with a hand on his chest, laughing. His placed a chaste kiss on the lips before leaning back once more.

"Finally."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay we're finally back the shit I actually enjoy writing! Hope you enjoy the ending angsty fluff haha, see ya soon.


	16. Chapter 16

 

Harry was lying contentedly on Draco's chest as the Slytherin flipped through the channels, unable to concentrate on anything on the television with the beauty that was Harry lying with him.

He was slowly trailing his fingertips up and down Harry's spine, constantly needing to be touching him in some way or another to assure himself that this was real.

Draco was about to switch the channel again when Harry sat up excitedly. "No, no, leave it on!" he cried, pulling at his sleeve. Draco sat up, pulling Harry's body with him slightly as he looked at him with a mix of mild confusion and amusement.

He gave Harry's favorite half smirk as he reached up and brushed a stray lock out of Harry's eyes. Harry stared solemnly at him before grinning when he saw that he had not changed it from the movie. It was the opening scene for the  _ Princess Bride _ .

"It's the  _ Princess Bride, _ " Harry said in explanation, as though it was the only reason he needed.

Draco raised a blonde eyebrow in an expression that clearly read  _ and? _

_ " _ It's like the best movie ever made, Hermione's shown it to me dozens of times. You'll like it," he said, large green eyes peering behind glasses up at him. How could Draco refuse?

He kissed Harry's forehead delicately by way of answer before lying back down on the couch, pulling Harry into his arms once more.

...

"Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya, you killed my father, prepare to die." Draco could feel Harry mouthing along to the words on the screen as they were spoken and his stomach warmed at how adorable the boy on top of him was.  _ Such a sap _ , he thought, rolling his eyes to himself though he could not keep the smile of endearment off of his face.

He continued threading his fingers through Harry's thick locks as they watched, so utterly sated that he couldn't remember a happier time in his life. As the movie began to draw to a close, Draco had found that he quite liked it, despite how cliche it had been. There was something in it that everyone could enjoy.

Harry sat up as the names began to raise on the screen, looking Draco in the eyes with such seriousness the Slytherin held his breath. "So?" Harry asked.

Draco swallowed and furrowed his brow. "So what?" he murmured nervously.

"So... did you love it or did you love it?" Harry asked, solemn expression raising his eyebrows in such an adorable, puppy-like expression that Draco had to resist grinning widely at him.

"I suppose it was alright... for a muggle movie," he said, feigning indifference. Harry stared at him with his mouth agape, his face crestfallen though he was obviously trying to hide it.

"I'm sorry you didn't like it," he stated plainly, though he tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Why didn't you stop it or something, you didn't have to sit through the whole thing if you didn't like it," he said.

Harry opened his mouth to continue his apology when Draco placed a finger gently on his lips. He gave a playful smirk and an eyebrow raised knowingly. "Harry," he said, the other looking up with him with large, open eyes, "I'm joking."

"Ugh," Harry said, rolling his eyes though the grin etched on his face showed he didn't mean it. "You're an arse," he said, playfully pushing at his chest so Draco fell flat on his back, nose to nose with Harry Potter. His breath stopped for a fleeting moment, taking in the scent, the weight, everything that was Harry. "...but you're my arse," he said, kissing Draco gently on the mouth, twining his hands in the fine silky locks of Draco's hair.

As they kissed languidly, Draco's stomach decided to interrupt the moment by imitating the sounds of an enraged bear as he hadn't eaten since the afternoon of the previous day, and it was now late morning.

Harry broke the kiss, chuckling softly. Draco poked his stomach playfully.

"I'll go make breakfast," Harry said, pecking Draco once on the lips before standing. "Would you like to join me?" he asked teasingly when Draco stayed lying where he was, gazing adoringly up at Harry.

"As you wish," he murmured playfully, standing as well before dipping his lips to meet Harry's, cupping his cheek gently. Harry melted into the kiss once more, heart hammering in his ears, he didn't think there would ever come a time that Draco did not have this effect on him. He sighed with a sound that approached a moan and Draco released him.

He smiled smugly and took Harry's hand as the Gryffindor led him to the kitchen.

...

"How am I supposed to concentrate when you keep distracting me?" Harry asked as Draco's arms wound around his waist for the second time since he started making breakfast.

He slid the spatula under the egg to flip it but his focus was broken as soft lips pressed against his neck, gently nibbling and kissing as they explored the heated flesh.

"And how am  _ I  _ supposed to resist you when you look so... tempting?" Draco responded, his arms still around a slim waist.

"I thought you were hungry," Harry replied, looking back at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Ravenous," came the murmured response as a silky tongue found its way from Harry's shoulder to his ear, teasing and tasting as it went, all the while as a hand that was swung around Harry's mid section dipped lower, grasping at the beginning hardness that awaited him, hardness caused by him.

A moan escaped Harry's pliant body as teeth played with his ear lobe and a hand wrapped around his firm length, hard enough to tease but not enough to satisfy.

The arms and lips removed themselves however and Harry could not stop the whine of disappointment from leaving his throat. Draco laughed, trailing a hand across the back of Harry's shoulders before seating himself once more at the bar stool.

He watched dreamily as Harry's lean muscles moved beneath his T-shirt as he cooked, the blonde's chin propped on one hand. Harry was quite oblivious, however, dutifully finishing their meal.

Draco was absentmindedly chewing his lower lip as arousal pooled deep in his belly, narrowing his vision so that it was only Harry; only his movements as he flipped eggs and turned sausages, only Harry as he wiped away a drop of sweat from his forehead with the back of his forearm.

"You're quiet," Harry said, breaking the silence and Draco's concentration of his practiced movements. "What are you thinking about?" Draco shook his head, trying to think of something besides his uncomfortably tight pants as a part of his anatomy grew.

"Where did you learn to cook?" he asked, changing the subject in an effort to distract both Harry and himself.

Harry paused a moment in his movements, a sausage waiting to be turned as he froze before slowly returning to what he had been doing. "My aunt and uncle," he finally responded slowly, not looking up from the nearly finished food.

Draco narrowed his eyes with concern and curiosity, wondering if he should press the issue or let Harry speak of his own volition. He stood, however, wrapping his arms around Harry once more though no longer in a way of lust. He held Harry to his chest so the other could feel his heart beating against his tensed back, beating for him, so he would know that Draco was there for him.

"Is it true they abused you?" he whispered, afraid to voice the words aloud. Harry hesitated before nodding, firmly looking at the food in front of him, afraid to trust his voice. "I'm sorry," Draco said, tightening his arms around the other and resting his chin on Harry's shoulder.

"Not your fault," Harry mumbled, gently releasing himself from Draco's grasp and turning to face him. "They're in the past, and they can't hurt me anymore," Harry said firmly, trying to diffuse Draco's pity for him.

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's neck, looking down slightly into faraway eyes, eyes that seemed to be experiencing every mistreatment once more in his mind. "Harry," Draco said, the foggy eyes clearing as they came to focus on the other's face, "I won't let anyone hurt you again," he whispered firmly, and Harry knew that out of all the truths spoken in this world, this was the one he trusted the most. Slowly, he pressed his lips to Draco's to share their comfort, before breaking apart with a mischievous smile.

"Come on, I heard somewhere you were ravenous," Harry said teasingly, turning of the stove before grabbing plates for the both of them.

...

Draco didn't bring up Harry's childhood again during the meal. The topic was kept light and far away from things such as Voldemort, all those they had lost, abusive relatives and adults...

"So what was your favorite part?" Harry asked, suddenly changing the subject from Quidditch.

"Oh, that's hard. Probably when Krum flew right underneath that other bloke and caught the snitch. That was pretty fucking incredible..."

Harry nodded, smiling and said, "It definitely was memorable, but I meant during the movie."

Draco sat back in his seat, pushing his plate forward slightly as he thought. "There were so many good parts... that Wesley, what a handsome man, he was quite funny, wasn't he?" Draco said contemplating. "Probably the banter during the duel with the Spaniard and Wesley... pretty amazing what muggles can do without magic. What about you?"

Harry paused a moment, snickering to himself before answering, "Well you know how I am with witty blondes... can't resist them." Draco laughed, subconsciously running a hand through his hair that Harry briefly wished was his own.

The Gryffindor stood, walking around the table to straddle Draco's lap as he placed his hands on the other's neck, Draco's resting comfortably at his waist.

"I've found that resisting you is quite... impossible," he said, pecking Draco's lips with his own and the blonde gave a smirk of surprise.

"Well, would you look at us now, Potter? What would we have done two years ago?" he asked laughing and Harry couldn't help but join in.

Harry leaned down once more, Draco's mouth tilted upwards, waiting for him. Harry felt his way through those platinum locks that were finer than silk, never having enough as Draco's tongue explored his mouth.

It was an intricate dance, a molding of two people in their passion, and every stroke of Draco's tongue would set Harry's nerves ablaze, making him groan and shift on his lap. Draco was holding his hips harder now, pushing up from beneath him and Harry could feel his hot length grinding against his hip, Harry's own rubbing with delicious friction against it.

Harry moaned once more and nipped Draco's bottom lip hard, eliciting a sudden groan from deep in his throat and an uncontrolled thrust upward of his hips, his erection pressing firmly against Harry's own.

Harry's pants were becoming exceptionally tight but he didn't want to break their kiss or lessen any of their proximity to remove them. However the pressure was building rapidly, Harry rearing toward a desperate need for release.

Harry broke apart from Draco's lips, kissing the corner of the blonde's mouth and trailing down his sharp jawline to his neck, the muscles straining and his Adam's apple bobbed as he made noises of approval.

A string of profanities escaped Draco's mouth as Harry sucked harshly on the spot just below his ear and Harry's stomach tightened from the course language, so arousing when it came from Draco's husky voice.

The Slytherin's hands were gripping hard onto Harry's hair as the man on top created the most incredible sensations with teeth, lips, and tongue. "Fuck, Harry," Draco cried out, and Harry's hips reacted without his control, thrusting quickly forward into Draco's own arousal and groaning at the feeling.

Harry was quickly approaching his climax, clothed or not, and this was not how he wanted his first time to be with Draco. He trailed his lips down further on Draco's neck, moving his hands down the other's chest when they began unbuttoning Draco's jeans.

He pulled harshly at them, still exploring Draco's neck with his mouth when Draco's hands ceased their tugging on Harry's hair and grasped the Gryffindor's own hands, stopping their movements.

Harry leaned back to see Draco's face, the unspoken question in his eyes as each fought to catch their breath, panting from pent up desire.

"We should... we should stop," Draco said, still fighting to get air into his lungs. Harry moved back shifting so his hips were no longer pressing against Draco's. There was hurt in his eyes, and it pained Draco to see it lying in something so beautiful, and Harry could not help but think back to that morning. Perhaps Draco was right, Harry had always been prone to dive head before thinking everything through...

At least, this was what he tried to tell himself as darker thoughts clouded his minds, perverting his mind with ideas like that which said perhaps Draco didn't want this as much as Harry did... he had pushed him away so many times before...

Harry shook his head. It was the first day of an actual relationship, he ought to take it slow and enjoy the ride. The time for frantic urges and lust because one never knew if they would see the next day were in the past. Harry at least hoped he had a long time with Draco.

"Sorry," he mumbled, giving a sheepish smile in an attempt to hide his insecurity. Harry began to stand but Draco pulled him back, not allowing him to leave his lap yet.

"Harry, I know what you're thinking, but don't. You're fucking gorgeous, but I don't want to rush this... I want to take you to dinner, go flying with you, watch sappy romantic movies... Can we live like there  _ is  _ a tomorrow?" Silver eyes filled with hope for their future pleaded with Harry's own and the Gryffindor was helpless to resist.

"You're right... I'm sorry. I've waited this long for you Dray," he said smirking with a playful eyebrow raised, "and I can wait as long as you need."

Draco closed the gap and gently pressed his lips to Harry's reassuringly. "Thank you."

...

Noon was drawing near as Draco did the dishes, (with magic of course), when their conversation was interrupted by the whoosh of the floo. Draco looked inquiringly at Harry who returned it with a shrug. He left Draco in the kitchen to investigate who had arrived.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here?" he asked surprised, returning Hermione's quick hug. Ron looked at Hermione and back to Harry as if to say, 'this was all her, man'.

The couple made eye contact briefly before Hermione turned to Harry. "Sorry, Harry, for just dropping in like this, but we were worried when you left so suddenly yesterday, we wanted to see if you were feeling better." Hermione looked at him with motherly concern that was reciprocated in Ron's eyes and Harry could not stop the warmth of gratitude that he had not lost either of them in the war.

They were still his best friends, and he was lucky to have each of them. He needed to suck it up and return the favor. Harry gave a reassuring smile to show that things were indeed better. "Yeah, sorry, I haven't been at my best these past weeks, but I think things are looking up," he said, smiling again.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance once more and Ron spoke this time. "Glad to see you're better, mate. 'Mione and I were wondering if you might grab lunch with us, it's been a while since we spent time just the three of us."

Harry smiled and nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good. Listen, I have to clean up the kitchen and get dressed. Can I meet you at that muggle cafe in half an hour?" Harry had avoided going in public in the wizarding world since the war had ended, sick and tired of the unbidden photos and pleas for an autograph.

"Right, we'll see you then," Hermione said, lacing her fingers through Ron's as they stepped back into the fireplace.

As the flames took them, Hermione could swear she saw platinum hair walk into the room before they were whisked away.

...

Draco walked into the room as the green flames engulfed the fireplace, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, Ron and Hermione want to meet me for lunch. I'm sorry to kick you out, but it's been a while since I've spent time with the two of them... I may have been a bit... absent recently," he said sheepishly.

Draco pecked Harry's lips with his own, still thrilled every time that he was able to do that, and brushed his cheek with his thumb. "I bet you don't even know how adorable you are," he said shaking his head in wonder.

A crimson blush spread under Draco's thumb and he kissed Harry again, slower this time, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on his own.

"Have fun," he said smiling, already embarrassed at how much he would miss him. Now that Harry was his after so many years it was difficult to let him go.

"Thank you, I'll see you... later then," he said, awkwardly grasping the back of his own neck. He began to step away when Draco stopped his movements.

"Harry," he said, making the Gryffindor pause and look at him expectantly. "I know this is a bit late, but... can I take you to dinner?"

Harry grinned, unable to resist kissing the other boy soundly on the lips.

"Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit more fluffy smutty crap as a birthday present from me haha, celebrating adulthood with you guys!


	17. Chapter 17

Harry showered quickly after one last goodbye that lasted ten minutes longer than he had intended. He dressed in comfortable muggle clothes, a navy T-shirt and lighter jeans, and attempted to tidy his hair, already messy almost immediately after showering. 

Harry apparated to an ally a block away that was poorly lit and inconspicuous to the muggle eye, and began his walk to the restaurant, ambling at a comfortable place and enjoying the rare British sun of the autumn weather.

He found a booth and asked for only a water, waiting in the cheery cafe whose bright music only added to his good mood. It was a good day.

Harry sat quietly, gazing at the muggles passing by the window next to the booth, wondering to himself what they were thinking, what they had planned for the day. Two minutes before they were supposed to meet, Hermione and Ron walked in, quickly locating Harry's booth before greeting him with another hug.

"Have you ordered yet? How long have you been waiting, I'm sorry we're late," Hermione said as she sat down, shooting a quick glare to Ron whose ears turned red.

"Relax, 'Mione, I just got here. And you're early anyway," Harry said, trying to calm his flustered friend. Ron was looking suspiciously at his lap and Harry decided he truly didn't want to know what had made them late by Hermione's standards.

The friends had just begun to look at their menus when a cheerful waitress with dyed blonde hair came to their table, standing conspicuously close to Harry, though he remained oblivious.

"Hi, I'm Claire, I'll be taking care of you today," the girl began, lashes fluttering at Harry as he smiled politely. "What can I get started for you today?"

"Could we have some tea to begin with please, Earl Grey," Hermione said for them, knowing it was something they all liked.

"Sure thing, I'll be back in a moment," she said, turning on her heels after smiling brightly once more at Harry.

Hermione rolled her eyes with disdain at her receding back but said nothing. Harry hadn't noticed the girl anyway.

"Harry, you should get at that," Ron said, staring at the entrance to the kitchen that their waitress had disappeared through. Hermione raised an eyebrow distastefully as Harry looked at Ron with a surprised expression.

"What are you talking about?" he asked. Ron rolled his eyes as if this should have been obvious, but, to be fair, it most likely would have been to anyone else.

"Harry, she couldn't take her eyes off of you," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You should ask her to dinner or something." Hermione wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something rotten.

"Do you really want someone because she thinks you're attractive?" she asked.

"He hasn't been with anyone since... fifth year? I can't even remember," Ron said. "He deserves to have a bit of fun."

Harry looked at the both of them, unsure how much he could tell them and what other excuse he could give. He wasn't ready to tell them of his relationship with Draco, that much he knew, but could he even reveal a relationship at all? The fact that he was gay?

"Uh, thanks Ron, but I don't really like fake blondes," he said solemnly, though he bit his tongue to keep himself from laughing at his own private joke. Ron just shrugged and Hermione nodded approvingly.

She took a deep breath and closed her menu. "So, Harry, speaking of...blondes," Hermione began but was interrupted by Claire returning. She set the tea on the table along with sugar, honey, some cream, before taking out a pen and paper.

"So, what can I get you guys?" she asked.

Each of them placed their order, Ron getting a sandwich while Hermione and Harry both went for soups. The waitress scrawled the orders on her paper, habitually looking up at Harry, and this time he noticed thanks to Ron pointing it out. It made him uncomfortable to be ogled in such a way, though he supposed he preferred it to being admired as "the Chosen One".

"Sorry, Hermione, you were saying? Something about blondes?" Harry asked, curious as to what other blonde she could be speaking, though he doubted it was the same one that was on his mind.

"Yeah, um, I was just wondering what Malfoy had to talk to you about yesterday, he said he needed to know where you were. He seemed really worried, I hope you don't mind that I took him to Grimmauld Place," she said nervously, hands fidgeting on the table.

Harry directed his attention to his tea so he wouldn't have to look her in the eyes, worried that she would see all of the secrets lying there if she looked too deeply.

Ron looked from Harry to Hermione and back again, trying to find the information between the lines, thinking that they both knew something he did not.

Harry bought time, stirring his tea slowly and studying it with all of his attention, trying to phrase the words in his mind carefully.

"Yeah, um, no worries, he um wanted to apologize, you know, for everything. And to thank me for what happened in the Room of Requirement." Hermione nodded and pursed her lips, and Harry worried she knew there was something he was not saying.

"Is he part of the reason you left so... suddenly yesterday?" she asked hesitantly.

Harry was taken aback for a moment, caught off guard by the question Hermione at least knew part of the answer to. Hermione had seen the blonde hair in the house that morning, and the way she saw it, there were two possibilities as to why. Either Draco had left and come back the next morning for some unknown reason, or... he had spent the night.

Harry couldn't bring himself to be fully honest with his friend yet, guilty as it made him feel. He didn't know where his relationship stood with Draco, and everything was still so new.

"Everything was just so overwhelming, you know? It was just... really hard going back," he said, his answer honest though incomplete.

Both his friends nodded at this, and they were left in a brief silence, every person lost in their own thoughts.

"What about the two of you? How are things, you know, as a couple?" he asked, hopefully diverting their attention from himself. The couple shared a secretive look before turning back to Harry, though from Ron's red ears and Hermione's smile Harry could tell they were holding hands under the table.

"Things are good, we're looking for a place of our own now," Ron said, a happy flush on his cheeks. Harry couldn't help but share their joy, he had waited long enough for them to get together after all.

"I'm happy for you guys, really," Harry said beaming at them. For the first time in years, Harry could see them all with a future, a future that didn't include a war.

...

The trio ate with a contentedness they hadn't experienced since before the fall of Voldemort, strange as it sounded, and Harry was relieved at the comfortable familiarity. It was nice to have his friends back. Their waitress returned soon after they had finished with the check, her number written on the back of the receipt.

"In case you ever want to grab dinner or something," she said, winking at Harry.

Harry took it hesitantly. "Um, I'm sorry, but I'm um, seeing someone," he said, ears burning.

"Too bad," the girl said, her grin unwavering however. "Have a good rest of your day," she said with a last smile for the group before departing. Ron nodded at him in approval.

"Nice letting her down easy, mate," he said, and Harry couldn't help but notice Hermione was looking quizzically at him and Harry felt his pulse quicken and a throbbing begin right in the middle of his eyebrows, as if her sharp look was boring a hole into his brain as she searched for answers.

"Yeah," he said absentmindedly, "exactly." The friends stood awkwardly, Hermione and Harry both lost in their own thoughts as Ron again tried to figure out what was going on. In the end, he just shook his head, figuring if it was important Hermione would tell him about it later.

As they exited the cafe, they paused, unsure if this was where their time together ended. Ron and Hermione didn't want to push Harry too far after being so secluded come of late. Luckily, Harry wasn't ready to part either.

"Are you guys busy this afternoon? We could see a movie, there's a theatre down the block," Harry suggested.

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Yes, there's a movie about Elizabeth the First, it's supposed to be incredible, and very historically accurate." Harry and Ron made brief eye contact, each asking the other to suggest something else in a silent battle of eyes. Harry was the winner with a look that seemed to say 'you're shagging the girl, you deal with her'.

"Yeah, maybe, or, I've heard they're re-releasing T _ he Three Musketeers _ , you like that one, and I don't think Harry's seen it," Ron said, Harry nodding along vigorously.

"You're probably right," Hermione conceded, "besides, I think Luna would want to see the film about Elizabeth as well."

"Good plan," Harry agreed, linking arms with Hermione as the three began to walk to the theatre.

...

"I quite liked that one," Harry said as he walked out of the theatre.  _ What was it with muggles and swords? _ he thought briefly to himself. Though he supposed they didn't have wands, he couldn't blame them.

The friends were ambling through the city, enjoying their easy chatter as the sun began to descend.

"You want to have dinner with us at the Burrow tonight?" Ron asked out of the blue. "Mum hasn't shut up about you, sayin' she's worried you're not eating properly and stuff."

Harry gnawed his lip guiltily. "Sorry I've been...away for a while. I would go tonight, but I have plans," Harry said, praying silently they wouldn't ask him about it.

But that was too much to ask from Hermione. "What do you have planned?" she asked casually, though curiosity laid beneath the nonchalant tone.

"I, um, I kind of have a date," Harry managed to get out, eyes shifting nervously on the ground.

Ron punched his arm by way of congratulations. "Nice one, mate, who's the lucky bird? Is she a witch? How long you been seein' her?" Hermione hadn't said anything but Harry could see the rapid questions mirrored in her eyes.

"Uh, let's just see if it goes well first. It's our first date so I don't know where it'll go. But I promise you'll meet... I'll introduce you guys when I know more," Harry not-so-subtly corrected, though it flew by Ron's notice. But not Hermione's.

"Alright, Harry. Come by soon, though. Bring this person if things go well next time you come to the Burrow. And be careful," she said, rubbing his arm as Harry's eyebrows raised before he quickly schooled his features. 'This person'?

"I will, Hermione, don't worry about me. Things are looking up," he said followed by a reassuring smile, and he gave each of his friends a brief hug and goodbye before they walked their separate ways so Harry could apparate back to Grimmauld Place and get ready.

...

Harry showered vigorously when he got back, scrubbing every inch of his body. He was nothing compared to Draco in terms of style and appearance, but tonight he wanted to impress.

When he stepped out, he pulled on a pair of pants, his hair still wet. Draco was coming in ten minutes and he needed to act fast.

Quickly, he grabbed the tie Hermione had given to him for his birthday a couple years back, saying it went well with his eyes. He shrugged, he knew he would never have knack for fashion.

He was just pulling out his simple white, button-up shirt when he heard the floo go off.

"I'm upstairs, you can come on up," he called, sticking his other arm into the shirt. He was just buttoning it when Draco walked into the room.

Draco froze in his steps, captivated by the startling beauty that was Harry, the expanse of his chest still visible with droplets from wet hair dripping down the smooth, hard surface as his fingers nimbly went higher and higher. His sleeves were pushed up on his arms, showing strong forearms that flexed with the task, Harry completely oblivious that Draco was there watching with his mouth hanging open, watering slightly.

A deep forest green tie was slung across his shoulders, waiting to be tied, and Draco forgot how to breathe. This man was his.

Harry finished buttoning his shirt, finally looking up at Draco with a wide, boyish grin on his face, and Draco quickly controlled his expression, hoping Harry hadn't seen the dumbstruck look he had worn.

As Harry looked up after finishing his task, his heart fluttered in his chest as he saw Draco was wearing a charcoal suit that made his hair appear almost silver and a gray tie that matched a cloudy day before a storm. Harry swallowed thickly, eyes roaming the fine specimen in front of him.

"Hey," Harry said eloquently. Draco threw him a smug grin that said  _ he knew  _ the effect he had on Harry. Harry reached up to tie his tie, fiddling with it with suddenly nervous and shaky fingers when strong hands closed around his own, ceasing the action.

"Let me," Draco said, cool minty breath washing over Harry's face as his hands replaced Harry's and began to expertly tie it.

His lower lip was held by his teeth as he focused on the task at hand and Harry couldn't help but stare at his mouth, tongue poking out, almost mirroring his movements. When the knot was finished, Draco began to tighten it, pulling Harry to him so they were chest to chest when Draco pressed his lips to Harry's, still holding him in place by his tie as Harry's hands wound around his neck, responding eagerly.

Draco pulled back, adjusting Harry's tie before taking a step back, greedily roaming his eyes from Harry's feet to his head. He gave Harry's favorite crooked grin that made the Gryffindor's heart flutter hard in his chest.

"Shall we?" he asked, extending his arm to Harry.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: food fellatio

Harry grasped Draco's hand in his own, their fingers lacing together, an action so entirely natural even though he hadn't practiced it in over a year. The comforting weight as Draco's hand squeezed his own, assuring him that he was there.

He had missed it so much.

Harry allowed himself to be pulled close into Draco's chest, enveloped in the cool, fresh scent that was the Slytherin as a familiar tug pulled behind his navel and Draco disapparated them a few blocks from their destination, a muggle restaurant they had agreed on before, away from the prying eyes of those in the wizarding world.

Draco's arms lingered a few moments longer than necessary once they had landed, but Harry could never get enough of the proximity. He regretfully allowed Draco to release him though their hands stayed entwined.

They were walking in the city, lit by many street and head lights that blinked and twinkled, the sounds of muggle automobiles and chatter around them a comforting noise, and though between them neither of them made conversation, it was a comfortable sort of quiet, one that a person could only have with someone they knew well.

They were in their own world, Draco's warm hand still in his own as they walked at a leisurely pace to the restaurant. When they reached the restaurant, Draco pulled Harry to the side, brushing a lock of dark hair that was still slightly damp out of his eyes, looking into the glorious green behind his circular glasses.

He pressed his lips softly and briefly to Harry's, comforting him away from nervousness. "Okay?" he asked.

Harry nodded and smiled. This was Draco, he had nothing to be nervous about. They walked hand in hand into the restaurant, a classy place with dim lighting and candles atop tables with long, white table cloths. Draco walked surely up to the hostess, a pretty girl with red hair that competed with Ron's, though it was slightly darker, like the dying embers of a fire.

He spoke too quietly for Harry to hear, still waiting near the door, though he could see the surprised look on the girl's face, followed quickly by a giggle. Harry's heart squeezed at Draco's charm, not out of jealousy but rather pride. That boy was his.

The hostess laughed again and Draco turned, eyes twinkling as he extended his hand toward Harry. The latter unhesitatingly walked forward, clasping his hand as they were lead to their table.

Draco, having been raised with such manners, pulled Harry's chair out for him, causing Harry to blush so fiercely it would rival a Weasley, and Draco grinned at him. The bastard knew the effect he had on him. Harry was wondering briefly if he ever had the same breathtaking effect on Draco but his thoughts were interrupted by their waitress setting menus in front of each of them.

"Hello, my name is Marlene, and I will be taking care of you both this evening. Can I get you started with something to drink? We have a large wine cellar as well as a variety of whiskeys and harder liquor," she said winking. She had a thick French accent and a pretty round face with a sprinkling of freckles. "You can see the selection here," she said, leaning over Harry and gesturing to a column on the menu.

Harry smiled his thanks and something possessive and vile within Draco spat at the waitress who had gotten to close to what was his. Draco worked to maintain a neutral expression, smiling at the waitress though it didn't thaw the ice in his eyes, a hard grey matching the charcoal of his suit.

"Yes, could we start with a bottle of Chateau Laffitte Laujac?" Draco said to the waitress, perfect French accent to top it off. Harry's stomach clenched suddenly and he grasped hard at his napkin in his lap. Draco spoke French. 

Fuuuuck.

"Harry, would you like to split something with me? I promise it's good," Draco said, addressing Harry with a hopeful expression.

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice that was sure to be husky and aroused, and all from three words in French.

Draco turned back to the waitress, smiling breathtakingly and Harry's grasp in his lap tightened once more as his breath left his chest.

Marlene responded in French in surprise and the two conversed for a moment longer before she walked away after one lingering look at Harry. Harry was thankful to have something in his lap to grab that wasn't his rapidly hardening cock, glad for the distraction.

Draco gave him his favorite crooked smile and Harry's heart fluttered in his chest. This dinner was going to be the death of him.

Draco looked at him almost inquisitively, as if to ask, 'what is it?'

Harry swallowed thickly before attempting to speak, leaning forward in search of something to drink so he could regain his voice but there was nothing yet. Luckily, before he could make a fool of himself, Marlene returned with a bottle to fill the empty wine glasses on the table and Harry smiled at her in gratitude.

A flush rose on the young woman's cheeks, hiding the freckles and the pit of Draco's stomach clenched once more. She opened the bottle with a small pop and retreated quickly, though Harry took no notice. Unlike Draco.

Draco took the abandoned bottle and filled Harry's glass before his own, raising it to Harry as they both drank. As the cool, smooth liquid slid down his throat, Harry finally felt he could speak again without entirely embarrassing himself. At least, no more than usual.

"You speak French," he blurted, not as a question. So articulate, as Draco would say.

"As usual, your powers of perception amaze me, Potter," Draco said playfully, his scorching gaze burning into Harry, and the Gryffindor swallowed hard once more, his pants feeling tighter and more uncomfortable by the second.

"So what did you order?" Harry asked, changing the subject.

...

They were in the middle of the meal, an utterly delicious fish that Harry had already forgotten the name of, and Harry's arousal had since calmed to a reasonable heat that always lingered when he was around Draco.

Draco had told Harry how he had been raised speaking both French and English, and had later learned Latin in his free time.

"How do you like it?" Draco asked, gesturing to Harry's nearly finished fish.

Harry nodded, wiping his mouth delicately on his napkin before returning it to his lap, taking another sip of wine. "Exquisite," Harry said in such a way that Draco's face heated slightly. "There are other things... I'd like to have a taste of," Harry said with a smirk and Draco glared as arousal pooled in his belly. Two could play at this game.

"Really?" Draco asked, an eyebrow raised seductively that made Harry squirm in his seat. "So you would care for some dessert?" he asked, eyes twinkling.

Harry bit his lip for the second time that evening for making indecent noises at the dinner table. He nodded slowly, teeth still worrying his lower lip as his perverted mind brought images of Draco's cock down his throat; what he would taste like, the sounds he would make, the way his head would be tossed back exposing his erratic pulse on his neck as he came.

Harry was dangerously close to a full erection, he need calm down. Now.

He was just about to stand, placing his napkin on the table when the waitress returned at yet another unfortunate time, asking if she could clear their plates after first handing each of them a smaller menu, of desserts, Harry assumed though they like the original menu were all in French.

Draco fought a smirk as he saw Harry's bewildered expression as he tried to decipher the unfamiliar words. Draco looked up at the girl, the one who could not seem to stop molesting Harry with her eyes, and addressed her again in French.

The pit of Harry's stomach clenched fiercely as all the remaining blood in his body immediately rushed to his aching groin when he heard the smooth words leave Draco's lips, tongue flicking as those delectable noises filled Harry's ears. He could take it no longer, standing quickly as he muttered something about using the lavatory, a deep blush upon his cheeks.

Draco was winning this, and he smiled victoriously as Marlene took their empty plates away.

...

Harry walked to the restroom as swiftly as he could without drawing too many curious looks from the muggles around him. His face was too hot, his skin prickling beneath the now uncomfortably heavy clothes.

Damn this tie! he thought as he struggled to loosen it. He was suffocating in his own heat and arousal, and it was all Draco's fault, the prick.

The bathroom was vacant at the moment, luckily for Harry, so he wasn't forced to be a spectacle to be gawked at.

He needed to cool down. God, the effect this man could have on him without even touching! It was hardly fair. Harry leaned over a sink and turned the faucet, cool water spraying and he scooped the heavenly cold and washed his damp, pink face, the cool a welcome feeling on his flushed, overheated skin.

The cocky bastard. Poor word choice, that was the last thing Harry needed to think about. Breathe, Harry. He would not let Draco win this game, a game he had seemingly invented. But if Draco wanted to play dirty... if that was what it took…

Harry took a couple more deep, calming breaths, willing his cock to calm down. For now.

Steeling himself with a few brief seconds of eye-contact with himself in the mirror, Harry exited the lavatory.

...

Draco drummed his fingers nervously on the table as he waited for Harry to return. He couldn't cast the Tempus charm with so many muggles around and he had no clock to look at. It could have been hours that Harry was gone.

What if Harry was in danger? What if Harry had left, nerves too much for him? Should he go check on him? To make sure he was okay (and still here)?

Draco was being ridiculous, Potter was not one to run away from his problems. Quite the opposite, really, diving head first into them.

His leg jerked impatiently, safely hidden beneath the tablecloth, when Harry strode far more confidently than the state he had left in back to their table. He gave a shy smile to Draco before taking his seat once more.

He had just settled in and Draco was opening his mouth to ask if he was alright when Marlene returned with some dish in a small tray and two spoons. Harry had no idea what it was but decided it looked tempting. Though the real mouthwatering object was seated across from him.

"Merci," Draco murmured quietly, not taking his eyes off of the green ones fixated on his own. They were each lost in the spell of the other, and neither noticed when Marlene paused to look at Harry briefly before blushing and scurrying away. Harry reached for one of the spoons at the same time as Draco, their fingertips brushing and Harry gently ran his hand over Draco's wrist before pulling his spoon back.

His eyes looked curiously at Draco before glancing back to the dish, wondering what he was in for.

Draco nodded encouragingly, bidding him go first. Harry reached to the center of the table and broke through the hardened sugar on top to a sort of custard beneath, taking a small bit of each. He slowly drew the spoon to his mouth, eyes fixed on Draco's smoldering grey one's, a burning steel of arousal. Not taking his eyes off of Draco's, his tongue peaked out of pink lips as he delicately ate the substance on his spoon.

At the sight of that delicious, flickering tongue, Draco swallowed thickly, wondering if Harry knew how arousing he truly was. The elegant tongue swirled gracefully, cleaning the metal with a final flick, eyes never removing from Draco's. The green was flaming, burning into his.

_ Fuck. _

The seductive look in hooded green eyes gave Draco his answer. Potter knew what he was doing, knew the game he was playing as his delicate tongue swept across the metallic substance to clean it, all without removing his eyes from Draco's.

Draco reached to the center of the table, scooping his own taste of the sweet, sugary substance, eyes unable to tear away from watching Harry. Harry had taken another small spoonful, delicately bringing it to his mouth once more as a small flash of tongue licked the surface, lips closing around the utensile and Harry’s eyes briefly closed in pleasure.

Blood was quickly rushing southward, and Draco clenched the table with both hands as Harry moaned in appreciation of their dessert. It was borderline pornographic. The bastard.

Harry licked once more, noises that were so sexual they stirred something deep within Draco as his knuckles became whiter from their grasp on the table cloth. He almost worried he would come in his pants from the mere noises and sight before him, touching or not.

Draco and Harry finished their dessert, one more sinfully than the other, and Marlene finally came with the check. Harry didn't even look at her as Draco signed quickly and placed some muggle money into the folder.

The green gaze was so fixated on his graceful fingers trailing across the small paper as he elegantly scrawled his name, Draco was happy to note, and Marlene briskly walked away again, face flushed once more.

Draco took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves and something else in his nether regions before standing, extending a hand to Harry.

Harry smiled and took it, lacing their fingers as they exited the restaurant. Draco cast a sideways glance as they walked to the alley they had used to apparate, but before Harry could do anything, he was being pressed against the brick wall, a jutting hardness pressed against his hip as Draco's ground against him, the blonde's mouth kissing him quickly and firmly.

All of the pent up passion was poured into that kiss, the frustration, the arousal... it was all put out for Harry to see as his lips fervently pushed against his own.

Draco's tongue roughly searched Harry's mouth, singing the nerve endings within as he set Harry's blood on fire. Draco continued sliding his hips against Harry's until he could feel the Gryffindor's arousal pressing it against his own, the feeling sinfully delicious and a shudder of pleasure ran up Draco's spine.

"You sly little arse," Draco said in a way that was no doubt intended to sound intimidating but instead came out husky with arousal and a fondness that he only had for Harry. He pulled his lips away from Harry's and stared into his eyes as he pressed his erection to Harry's once more and air hissed out of Potter's clenched teeth as his erection neared the point of pain. "This is what I have had to deal with all evening," Draco said, rutting his hips almost frantically against Harry's as both of them groaned in arousal. "...all thanks to you."

Draco's lips slid down his neck, tasting the smooth skin that awaited him. He needed to taste all of him. His lips continued downward until they sucked harshly at the point where his neck met his shoulders, and Harry groaned before saying, "You're welcome."

The sucking turned to biting as Draco moaned low in his throat at the arousing boy. Harry whimpered slightly at the feeling of teeth on his shoulder, his hips instinctively thrusting forward in search of friction and Draco's resolve snapped.

Magic tugged behind his navel as they apparated back to Grimmauld Place.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heavy adult content please be warned.

As soon as Draco's feet landed on the solid wood, he shoved Harry onto the couch, which he had purposefully apparated next to, and straddled him immediately. He was unashamedly grinding his erection against Harry's answering hardness, too aroused to care.

Harry's soft moans and low sighs were all that Draco needed to eradicate whatever nervousness or hesitation he would have. As he rutted his hips against Harry's, his lips explored every bit of skin available to them, beginning at Harry's earlobe before trailing lower.

He licked a line from the spot beneath his ear to the point where neck met shoulder, biting down on the hard muscle there. Tasting Harry was nearly as arousing as the delicious friction created by Harry's cock on his own; there was something in the flavor that was so distinctly masculine, tasting of the wind and rain, all the things that were  _ Harry _ , overloading his senses with need and want.

Though Draco had no doubt that he could come within minutes with the simply friction of their grinding, Draco needed more of Harry. It didn't matter that Draco wasn't ready to go all the way, he forgot his nervousness when he felt his own hand reach into Harry's trousers and wrap firmly around something hard and pulsing, something not unlike his own.

He could smell the musk and salt from sweat and sex in the air, adding to his own arousal as he sought to make Harry his. He was gentle at first, moving slowly as he sought to find a rhythm Harry would enjoy, but when Harry's hand grasped his own length and pulled almost harshly, Harry's hips meeting Draco's every tug with his hand as they lifted off the couch, he sped up, grasping more firmly and speeding up as he neared his own climax.

He wouldn't last much longer, but based on the moans and whines Draco could feel more than hear from the vibrations reverberating in Harry's throat where Draco's lips were still attached, Harry was just as close as he was.

He lifted himself to bring Harry into a nearly bruising kiss, swallowing the whimpers as Draco's hand pulled three more times before he felt hot liquid spread beneath his fingers. He pulled away to stare at Harry's face as he came, head thrown back and throat seductively exposed as he bit his lips and quivered beneath Draco's touch. The sight was too much and soon he too was spilling into Harry's hand, crying out something that resembled his name before collapsing on top of him.

"Draco," he heard Harry whisper, a hand threading soothingly through his hair and he nuzzled further into Harry's neck. He placed a soft kiss to the delicate skin there and cast a cleaning charm before closing his eyes as the world went black.

…

Draco awoke to a dark room with light just beginning to flicker at the edges of the thick curtains and a firm body lying on top of his. They had fallen asleep on the couch, Harry curled up comfortably on top of him, and Draco carefully threaded his fingers through the thick hair, gentle enough to keep from awakening the other. 

It never ceased to steal Draco’s breath every time he took the time to observe Harry’s beauty. He had known even back at Hogwarts that the stark green eyes surrounded by black lashes had an open sort of wonder that anyone could find attractive, or so Draco had told himself, but after getting to know him and becoming as close as he was to the savior of the wizarding world, he could notice other things besides the way lean muscle had replaced the knobby child he had been.

But now that they had grown and Draco had discovered just how deeply his feelings ran, there were so many other things to find beautiful about Harry. The way his hair never seemed to want to cooperate, and the fact that even though it looked thick and almost coarse, it was truly soft and so enjoyable to touch. 

Draco had always known how strong and fierce Harry had sounded in anger, the power flickering in his eyes as he shouted and the danger beneath the deadly calm tone he used when he was about to snap. 

And as terrifyingly arousing as the anger in his tone could be, there was something far more intense when the tone was used toward someone else… a voice that Draco knew could also be sweet and husky with laughter… a voice that could be tentative at times and firm in others. The knowledge that Draco was able to see the many sides to Harry Potter, many that others could not see. 

Draco traced the straight edge of Harry’s nose, trailing up to map his eyebrows before stroking down his exposed cheek once more. He allowed himself to enjoy how carefree and at ease he looked in sleep, unprotected by his glasses, open for Draco’s eyes alone. 

His fingers just brushed Harry’s lips, staring at the slightly kiss-swollen mouth that Draco didn’t think he would ever get enough of. How he had managed the self control to walk away the first time was now beyond him. He didn’t think he could leave Harry if he tried. 

The lips beneath his fingertips parted as Harry took in a breath and Draco’s gaze flickered up to meet deep green eyes, staring at him. Once again, Draco was caught breathless by the unguarded expression that showed nothing but pure trust and openness, something in the gaze that told him it was for Draco alone. 

“Hi,” Draco said sheepishly, embarrassed to have been caught staring. 

“Hi,” Harry murmured in reply, green eyes flickering to Draco’s lips. Taking the hint, Draco closed the gap and wrapped his arms tenderly around Harry 

Harry seemed almost hesitant in his kisses, not as deep or passionate as the night before though still tender and soft. He pulled back after a moment, too soon for Draco’s taste, and the Slytherin narrowed his eyes slightly, suddenly sensing a tension. Had something changed?

“What’s wrong?” he whispered, pulling back further still from Harry, prepared to close himself off and replace the mask at a moments notice. 

Harry’s eyes darted between his own, wide and searching and Draco fought to not allow the worry that was crawling up his spine to show in his expression. 

“I just… was  _ this _ ,” he began, vaguely gesturing to their crotches and Draco felt his ears heat up, “okay? I know you wanted to take this slowly and I didn’t want to push you into anything…” he trailed off, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. 

“Harry,” Draco said, bringing Harry’s gaze back on his own. “I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want to. Last night was… bliss,” he finished quietly, unable to maintain eye contact with Harry. “I mean, at least for me…” 

“Good,” Harry said, closing the space between them once more and pressing his lips fervently to Draco’s. This time there was no hesitation of timidity holding them back, simply the need to show the other where they stood. 

…

Harry was surprised at how easily he and Draco fell into a rhythm. Perhaps it was something that came from knowing one another for so long, or a matter of compatability, Harry didn’t know nor much care. 

Living with Draco was so natural it was almost scary. Though Harry hadn’t asked Draco to fully move in, many nights were spent at Grimmauld place and many of Draco’s items resided in the old house. It had been a blissful, secluded couple weeks during which a few evenings were spent with their respective families. But even on those nights, Draco would often turn up sooner or later. 

They hadn’t progressed in regards to intimacy, although they had on numerous occasions brought the other off with hands. Harry hoped that soon Draco would be ready for more. 

“Hey,” Harry called from the kitchen as Draco emerged from the Floo. “How did it go with Johnson?” he asked as Draco removed his cloak and hung it up next to the door. 

Draco had been applying at many different apothecaries in the hopes of becoming an apprentice to eventually become the master of his own shop. 

“The man is an insufferable git, but he’s brilliant, I’ll give him that. He offered to take me on starting on Monday,” Draco replied, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist from behind where the Gryffindor had been finishing their pasta dish. 

“Mm, sounds like someone I know,” Harry replied, still stirring though a smile played on his lips. Setting the spoon on its rest, he turned around in Draco’s embrace and gave him a searing kiss. They hadn’t seen each other since the morning two days before as Draco had been staying at the manor with his mother as he looked for work. 

Draco pretended to scowl but Harry kissed it off of him a moment later, surrendering himself in the familiar embrace. 

“I missed you,” Harry said against Draco’s mouth, pressing one more chaste kiss to the corner of Draco’s mouth before he turned around to finish the pasta. 

“Me too,” Draco replied, nipping playfully at Harry’s earlobe. Harry let out a small moan and leaned back against Draco only to feel a hardness pressing against his arse. Fuck. 

“Is your wand in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” Harry asked playfully as he tried to focus once more on supper. 

“Ecstatic, actually,” Draco replied, kissing his way from Harry’s earlobe down his neck to suck at a spot there.

“Dinner first,” Harry said breathlessly, trying to shrug him off. “Aren’t you hungry? It’s already half past seven.”

Draco resumed his nibbling on Harry’s neck, the Gryffindor’s head thrown backwards as he began to succumb. “I’m hungry for  _ something _ ,” Draco murmured suggestively by Harry’s ear, his breath heating the skin there. 

Harry sighed, nearly ready to let Draco devour him completely, but it had been a long day for the both of them. And they needed to talk first. 

“Draco,” Harry murmured, cursing the fact that it came out sounding more like a moan than a command. “We both need to eat. I promise, we have all night,” he said, turning and gently but insistently pressing Draco’s chest away. 

Draco pouted adorably but humor resided in his eyes. Harry couldn’t resist kissing away the pout before turning resolutely to the pasta that would soon become overdone if he didn’t concentrate. 

“Go change,” Harry said, flicking his wand to turn off the stove. “Would you grab a bottle of firewhiskey when you come back?” Harry asked sweetly.

“Alright,” Draco said, eyes dancing before he left the room. Harry took out two plates and split the pasta between the two of them, setting them on the table with the silverware. 

Harry had just sat down to wait for Draco to get back when the latter emerged with a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand. He had changed into a pair of Harry’s loose-fitting jeans and a button-up, and there was something so incredibly intimate about sharing clothing. Harry wondered whose pants he was wearing. 

His throat dried up as Draco flashed him a devious grin and sat across from him, pouring a glass of the alcohol for them both. 

“How are Weasley and Granger?” Draco asked as he carefully twirled the pasta on his fork. 

“They’re good,” Harry said, gathering his thoughts before he brought up what he needed to. Draco’s brows pressed together slightly as he searched Harry’s gaze. “Dray, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Harry said cautiously, chewing his lip when emotion fled Draco’s face leaving nothing but the outward appearance of cool indifference. But Harry knew better. Because of this he rushed to explain before Draco got the wrong idea. “I think Hermione is starting to suspect… she asked about you, and if I’m seeing anyone, and all sorts of other questions and… I don’t know if I want to hide this from her, from either of them.”

Draco still looked cautiously guarded but less blank than he had a moment ago so Harry continued. 

“It’s just… you’re such a huge part of my life now, and I don’t want to have to pretend in front of my best friends. And I don’t expect you to become best mates with them right away or anything but… perhaps we could spend some time all together? So they know I have someone and they can see how amazing you are?” Harry asked, hope in his expression though he cursed Draco’s ability to appear so calm at all times. Sometimes it was a difficult mask to penetrate. 

Draco glanced down at his plate for a moment before meeting Harry’s gaze once more. 

“I mean we don’t have to, if you’re not ready. We can wait as long as you need, and this doesn’t mean we have to go public or anything or that you have to tell your mum…” he trailed off, worried his words were having no effect. 

“You’re not afraid of how people will look at you when they find out your with a deatheater?” Draco asked, fear in the silver eyes. 

“Former deatheater,” Harry corrected, shooting him a glare, “and as for the rest of the world, they can go fuck themselves for all I care. I know the people whose opinions I do care about will get to know you the way I have,” Harry said firmly. 

“Okay,” Draco said, a small smile playing on his lips. 

“Okay?” Harry asked, excitement and relief evident. 

“Okay, let’s meet with Gra-  _ Hermione  _ and the Weasel,” Draco said teasingly, spooning more of the pasta into his mouth. 

“Good try, Hermione and  _ Ron _ ,” Harry said, rolling his eyes though he couldn’t keep the smile of amusement off his face. 

“Right,” Draco said, rolling his eyes and eating more of the pasta. Harry’s fork hovered in front of his mouth as he watched Draco eat, similar to having his own private show, it was ridiculous how arousing it was to watch him  _ eat  _ of all things. 

Draco’s eyelids fluttered slightly as he ate another mouthful, a moan that could almost be called erotic escaping his lips.

Harry did his best to focus on his own dinner, avoiding looking too long at the blonde and eating quicker than he would have under normal circumstances. They each talked about the past two days and when they would have the conversation with Harry’s friends. 

Finally Harry finished his pasta and was able to freely watch Draco enjoy the meal. Harry’s mouth dropped open slightly as a bit of sauce rested in the corner of Draco’s mouth. 

“You have something,” Harry said, mirroring where the sauce was on his own face. Draco gingerly dabbed at the corners of his mouth with a napkin and looked up expectantly at Harry. 

“Better?” he asked. 

“No, there’s just a bit,” Harry said, walking to the other side of the table with his own napkin raised. He leaned in close, breathing in the scent that was Draco, and pressed his own lips to the corner of Draco’s mouth, tongue poking out to lick what little sauce remained. 

Harry shifted so he was straddling Draco’s lap, mouth fully pressed to Draco’s lips and the Slytherin gasped as Harry’s tongue swept out, teasing his lower lip. Harry used the opportunity to sweep his tongue into the Slytherin’s mouth, tasting every inch available to him.

He deftly undid the buttons on Draco’s shirt, exposing more of the smooth, pale flesh as he went, but Harry was far too distracted by the neck that simply begged him to suck it. When the last button was out of the way, Harry flattened his hands and spread them across the smooth plains of Draco’s chest, running over soft pink nipples that hardened beneath his touch. 

Harry began to kiss his way down to the newly exposed chest, nibbling softly on Draco’s collarbone. He was happy that the other man had filled out since the war, no longer entirely hard edges and hollow cheeks. He was still lean but in an attractive way, with softer features layered beneath lean muscles. 

Harry was about to continue down further still when a sight stopped the breath in his throat from escaping, lungs seaming to contract painfully as he was met with the beautiful sight of Draco’s pale chest, marred by even paler ribbons sliced across his torso. Slices he had created. 

He pulled away, disgusted with himself, the reminder of the things he had done sixth year sixth inches from his eyes. And Draco had brushed it off and forgiven him as though it had been nothing. 

He opened his mouth in search of something, some words that  _ had  _ to make this right, but all that came out was a hollow choking noise as his heart clenched painfully in his chest. 

“Harry,” he heard a whisper beyond the ringing in his ears and he looked up brokenly, eyes trying to portray just how sorry he was and how remorseful he was. Because there were no words to excuse what he had done, no actions. Words and actions were temporary but the scars before his eyes were permanent. 

“Harry please, it’s okay, we’ve been through this before,” Draco said pleadingly, trying to bring them back to the happiness they had had before. “Harry… please,” Draco said, and Harry searched his eyes for any flicker of anger or blame but when he found nothing but pleading and adoration, his throat loosened and his heart resumed beating. 

Draco pulled him in for a kiss, Harry still seated on his lap, and briefly the press of lips was slow and passionate, trying to pour the forgiveness he felt into it so Harry could see just how important he was to Draco. 

The kissing quickly became more heated as Harry began to grind on Draco’s lap once more, no more words necessary with only the need to  _ feel _ and show what their true emotions were. 

Harry resumed his exploration from before, his lips hovering just above a rosy nipple as his eyes looked up, searching for permission. 

“Are you sure this is okay?” Harry asked, eyes still searching Draco’s before he dare proceed further. 

Draco gave a breathless nod in response, panting with eyes full of hunger as Harry’s tongue flicked a pebbled nipple, a startled groan escaping his throat as a shock of pleasure rushed straight to his groin. 

Harry, encouraged by the sound, repeated the motion, pressing his lips and sucking gently as he laved each nipple, earning more whimpers from Draco as he pleaded for more. Harry’s erection was painfully confined in his own jeans by now but even that could not distract him from his task, something he had wanted to do so badly for what felt like a long time. 

He trailed his tongue down further still, lips tracing the silver lines that adorned his torso, pressing soft kisses to them as though to apologize with each kiss, knowing Draco wouldn’t allow him to say the words allowed. 

When Harry was satisfied for the time being that every scar had been properly apologized for, his lips traveled further still, brushing the fine hair just below Draco’s navel that one could not see but were delightful against Harry’s kiss-swollen lips. His tongue caressed the sensitive area with just a whisper of a touch, but based on Draco’s moans, it was enough. 

His tongue trailed through the invisible hair south once more until it hit the waistband of Draco’s pants, just above the denims. Harry pulled his face away as his fingers explored the terrain, fiddling with the button holding Draco’s trousers on as his eyes once more searched Draco’s for permission. 

Again, Draco nodded, a hand reaching out and running its fingers through Harry’s thick hair, a clear sign of acceptance and need. Before returning to his task, Harry took the time to appreciate the state he had left Draco in, a disheveled condition with hair mussed in a provocative way and his shirt unbuttoned but not removed from his body. Harry nuzzled Draco’s obvious erection and the hand in his hair tightened as a harsh breath was released. 

Harry looked up, eyes teasing through skewed glasses and Draco removed his hand from Harry’s tangled hair to remove them, wanting no barrier between them during such an intimate moment.

Harry smiled at the intimacy, gently tugging the trousers and his pants down with Draco’s help, exposing his leaking cock. 

It was flushed and curved slightly, leaking steadily from a darker red tip. Eyes glancing up for permission, Harry gingerly licked the wet tip, expecting a bitter taste, but was pleasantly surprised that while it was far from sweet, the flavor was musky and something entirely Draco’s and he found himself quite enjoying the flavor. 

He pulled the head into his mouth, sucking gently as he tried to get more of the addicting flavor, and Draco’s hips jerked upwards uncontrollably, seeking more of the addicting wet tightness of Harry’s mouth. 

“Fuck,  _ Harry _ ,” Draco said followed by a groan, hands gripping tightly to the armrests of his chair and Harry smiled at the power he felt at the effect he could have on the other man. 

It was incredible,  _ addicting _ , the power he had over the other man even though he was the one on his knees. He could never imagined how enjoyable performing such an act could be. It wasn’t solely for one person’s pleasure after all. 

Harry was moving his mouth steadily up and down Draco’s length, taking as much of him in as he could, when he noticed Draco’s hands gripping the chair. 

Harry looked up from beneath thick lashes, lips still fixed around the head of Draco’s cock, and the blonde had never seen such an erotic sight. 

“Salazar,” he murmured, trying to keep his hips still. Harry’s hand closed around Draco’s, gently pulling so he would release his death grip on the armrest, replacing his hand in Harry’s own hair, the silent request understood. 

_ Use me.  _

Harry’s looked unblinking into Draco’s eyes and then took him to the root, eyes not leaving his own, and Draco’s hips jerked of their own volition, his fingers tightening in Harry’s hair. He whined in his throat, Harry speeding up as he reached toward climax, his hand guiding Harry’s movements and pace, but not controlling. 

Seeing Draco lose control and his hips jerk as unbidden noises escaped him made Harry more aroused than he had been in his entire life, and he wanted so desperately to reach into his own pants and bring himself off as Draco did, but his hands were occupied gripping the base of Draco’s cock and holding his free hand. 

“Harry,” Draco ground out in warning, but Harry kept going. “Harry, Harry, I--I’m gonna--” he exhaled loudly and hot liquid flooded Harry’s mouth, hot and bitter but not horrible and Harry swallowed it down quickly. 

Little tremors shook Draco’s hips as he slowly came down, Harry gingerly playing with the sensitive head until Draco had finished. 

“Holy fuck, Harry,” Draco said, eyes heavy and sated. “Where did you learn to do that?”

Harry smiled shyly and shook his head. 

“That was not your first time. Harry, that could not have been your first time,” Draco said, eyes full of wonder and appreciation. 

Again, Harry smiled sheepishly, elated by the praise. Draco shook his head, smiling widely. 

Then he glanced down at Harry’s impressively tenting trouser and was brought quickly back to reality. He pushed Harry back to lie on the kitchen floor, leaning down for a filthy kiss before plunging his hand into Harry’s pants. 

Harry had been on the brink for so long, giving pleasure far more erotic than he ever would have imagined, and with a few quick strokes of Draco’s hand, he was done for, sobbing into Draco’s neck as his world went white. 

He rode out his pleasure before Draco collapsed on top of him, both sated in their own pleasure. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends, so I have reached the end of what was already written just sitting in my google docs, waiting to be edited, I am still writing the rest of the story, probably looking like a couple more chapters depending on how long the last few events take haha. But this means updates will probably not be as regular, this last blow job scene was not proofread cuz editing smut is a rough time. 
> 
> So if you catch mistakes pls pls pls let me know, sorry if it's rough. 
> 
> You're reviews give me life and encourage me to keep doing this story as opposed to editing my others, so thank you for them. 
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter, its extra long, like Harry's dick (jk), and sorry for the super long note.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks Austin for editing this when I didn't want to.

“Harry, wake up.” Something shook his arm. “Harry.” A flick to his arm. “Salazar, how did you wake from death, you can’t fucking wake up from sleep.  _ Harry _ .” 

Harry groaned, eyes squinting in the harsh light. 

“Mm, what time is it?” Harry ground out, rolling over so that his face was buried in Draco’s pillow. 

“Time for  _ you _ to get up,” Draco said with a kiss on the top of Harry’s head. 

“But it’s Sunday,” Harry grumbled, head still in Draco’s pillow. “Four more hours.” 

“We have a lot to do today, you...need...to get up,” Draco said, pulling Harry’s arm but the man was like a ton of bricks. 

Harry’s head finally lifted, squinting at Draco. He rubbed an eye, flipping onto his back, shirtless and beautiful. 

“What?” he asked, before turning to the nightstand in search of his glasses. 

Draco raised an eyebrow. “You’ve lived in this dreary house for long enough. It’s time we fix the place up. We’re going shopping today,” he said, crossing his arms and looking at him expectantly. 

Harry gave him the dryest look his exhausted state could muster. “You woke me up at the arse crack of dawn to go shopping?”

Draco rolled his eyes at this. “It’s half past eight you lazy prick, get up.” He grabbed Harry’s hand again and pulled, and Harry could keep his smile down no longer. He grinned innocently, beginning to sit up before suddenly yanking Draco so that he fell down on top of him with a yelp.

Draco pushed himself up, looking into Harry’s eyes with an annoyed glare that quickly became fond with Harry’s innocent grin looking back at him. Harry kissed his forehead, pushed him off, and walked out of the room to the bathroom, leaving Draco behind rolling his eyes with a smile on his face. 

…

“What do you think about this?” Harry asked, gesturing to a wallpaper that was a mix of bright, flashy Gryffindor red and gold. 

“Yes, Potter, why not make every room into a new Gryffindor common room,” Draco said, rolling his eyes as he looked at a paint strip with five ‘different’ shades of cream that looked all the same to Harry. 

“What, would you prefer all green and silver?” he asked, nudging him playfully. 

“I would  _ prefer _ knowing you’re living someplace that doesn’t look like the gloomiest funeral home I’ve ever seen,” he retorted, moving on to pale blues and warm greys. “It needs to look like you, like some place  _ you _ want to live,” he said, turning away from the colors to look into Harry’s eyes, all joking gone from his voice. 

Harry nodded, smiling softly before kissing Draco’s temple. “Could you help make it someplace that looks like the  _ both _ of us?” he asked quietly.

Draco took a step back, eyebrows furrowed. “But it’s your home, I want it to be for you first and foremost,” the blonde replied, entwining their hands as they continued looking at the colors. 

“Yes, but it doesn’t have to be,” Harry murmured next to Draco’s ear. 

“What do you mean, Potter?” Draco said, turning to face him once again. 

“I mean, it doesn’t have to be  _ just _ my home… that if you moved in with me it could be  _ our _ home.”

“Are you being hypothetical about a future or is this your convoluted way of getting me to move in with you?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. 

Harry grasped Draco’s hands in his own, feet shuffling nervously but his grip was strong. “That depends on what your answer would be,” he said, smiling shyly. 

Draco rolled his eyes, grinning widely as he wrapped his arms around Harry, allowing the Gryffindor to wrap him in the safe protection of his arms. “I would love to move in with you,” he said, kissing Harry on the cheek before stepping back. “But if I’m going to be moving in, we have some serious work to do,” Draco said with a smile that Harry couldn’t help but return. 

…

Having Draco live with Harry full-time brought new light and life into the grim home, colors now inviting and tasteful, curtains often drawn open to let in the light. It was someplace that Harry could look forward to returning to, and he hoped it had the same effect on Draco. 

Draco was now working full-time at the apothecary in Diagon Alley, and Harry still hadn’t found it within himself to find work yet, occupying himself with helping Hermione on charity projects and fixing up the old Black house. 

But everyday, he and Draco came back to  _ their _ home to eat supper in  _ their _ living or dining room, (depending on whether it was muggle movie night or not), to eventually go to sleep in  _ their _ bed, (often after a slow handjob or blowjob on more exciting nights). 

They were in the sitting room, just having finished an old  _ Cheers _ rerun, Draco with his head in Harry’s lap so that he could pet his hair, when Harry paused in his stroking.

“Have you got anything planned for Sunday?” he asked, fingers still touching the silky locks. 

Draco smiled and turned to look up at Harry. “Just spending the day with my favorite person,” and Harry’s heart fluttered, rolling his eyes though his face heated and he couldn’t keep down a smile. “Yeah, Blaise and I are planning to spend the day in Diagon Alley.”

Harry scowled offended, halfheartedly pushing Draco’s head out of his lap. Draco rolled to the floor, holding his sides as he laughed. “Holy fuck, you’re easy,” he said with a chuckle and then his face sobered. “No, I haven’t got any plans, why?”

Harry rolled his eyes, pulling Draco to his feet before guiding him to sit on his lap. “Be _ cause _ I made plans to have lunch with Ron and Hermione, and I was going to tell them about us, and depending on the reaction, I thought I’d bring them back to the house and we could all have tea together.”

Draco was looking unconvinced and very hesitant, pursing his lips with his brows furrowed. 

“Look, you are all a part of my life, and I can’t have that knowing you hate each other. You don’t have to be mates, but it would make me really happy if you got along.”

Draco sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Harry asked, large grin stretching on his face. Draco nodded, smiling softly at the boyish joy Harry never seemed to run out of. 

Harry’s hand cupped Draco’s cheek carefully, drawing his face to his own before pressing his lips softly to the others. The words  _ I love you _ sat ready in his throat, bubbling up, begging to be heard, but he knew that Draco probably was not ready yet and it would hurt to much not to hear the terrifying words returned. Instead, he pressed his lips more firmly against Draco’s pouring the words and feelings into the action without actually saying them out loud. 

When they pulled back, the words that left his lips were “Thank you, Dray,” but to him, they sounded a lot like the other three words. 

…

Ron moaned obscenely as he ate another mouthful of clam chowder. 

“Christ, Ron,” Harry said with a laugh. Hermione rolled her eyes but a smile toyed at her lips. 

“So Harry are you still seeing that person? How did your date go?” Hermione asked, taking a sip of her water. 

“It went well, uh, really well,” Harry said and he could feel his cheeks meeting. “Yeah, I actually wanted to talk to you guys about that.”

Hermione nodded and Ron put the spoon down, showing that he meant business, both of them looking at him attentively. 

“Right, so, um, I’m gay.” Ron blinked for a moment but Hermione didn’t even move, completely unphased by the news. Which, to her, probably wasn’t news. “And I’m seeing someone. Um, and we didn’t get along with him earlier in school, but he’s changed a lot, and not just that, I mean, we didn’t really know the real him and--” he cut himself off, Ron looking like he was trying his best to be supportive but slightly green, while Hermione looked like this was all stuff she already knew. 

“You can tell us, Harry,” she said gently, and Ron nodded firmly. 

“Yeah, mate, nothing you do is gonna make us love you any less. You’re my brother,” he stated as if it went without saying. 

“It’s-Draco-Malfoy,” Harry blurted in a rush, relieved that there were no more secrets and the dam had finally broken. “We’ve been seeing each other for...fuck, a while now, it’ll be six months in a couple weeks.”

Hermione nodded along, unperturbed as usual while Ron looked like the world had flipped on its axis. 

“That sounds serious,” Hermione said. 

“Yeah, um, he moved in last month, so… and I forgot to say, um, we got to know each other pretty well sixth year, but then the war…” Both nodded. 

“We’re both happy as long as you’re happy, Harry. And it seems like Malfoy makes you happy…” When Harry’s brows lifted in surprise, she continued. “You whistle more, you’re coming to dinners at the Burrow, and you just have this look like life doesn’t weigh you down anymore. I thought maybe it was the war ending but…” Hermione said with a smile, reaching across the table and squeezing his forearm. 

“‘Mione’s right, hate to say it, but it seems like he might be good for you. But I swear to Godric, if he hurts you,” Ron let the threat hang in the air, eyes serious. 

“Thank you both, fuck, I did not think it would go this well,” Harry said with a laugh. “I thought maybe if you guys took the news well you could come back and, you know,  _ meet _ , again, he’s to be on his best behavior, and the same would go for you both,” he added. 

“We would love to,” Hermione said, and Ron nodded. 

…

“Dray?” Harry called as he stepped through the floo. 

“Hi,” was all he heard before he was knocked backward by a hurtling Draco Malfoy, hugging him tightly. “How did it go?” he asked when he pulled back. 

“Really well, they just want what makes me happy. And you, my dear Watson, make me very happy,” he said, smile playing on his lips as he kissed the tip of his nose. “‘Mione already knew something was up, and Ron’s my best mate so… they should be coming through any minute.”

As he said this, the fireplace glowed green and Hermione stepped through, followed quickly by Ron.

Draco quickly stepped out of Harry’s arms, but Harry pulled him back, telling him it would be okay with his eyes, and lacing their fingers together. 

“Wow, Harry, the place looks gorgeous,” Hermione said, smiling politely to Draco. She wandered the sitting room, looking at the light colored curtains and warm grey sofa. 

“Thanks, it was actually all Draco, he has a knack for this sort of thing,” Harry said, smiling proudly and squeezing Draco’s hand. 

“Perhaps you could help fix our flat,” Hermione said with a grin, turning to Ron who nodded with a polite smile. “You’ve done a wonderful job here,” she said, feeling the soft cushions on the couch Draco had insisted they get, saying something about how they complimented the sofa. 

“I’d be honored,” Draco said with a shy smile and Harry squeezed his hand again. 

“Shit, I’m not being a good host, make yourself comfortable. Ron, help me make some tea in the kitchen,” Harry said, letting go of Draco’s hand reluctantly. 

Ron gave him a puzzled look but at Hermione’s glare he stood and quickly walked into the kitchen in front of Harry. Draco grasped Harry’s sleeve with wide, fearful eyes, and Harry gave him a smile that said ‘it’ll be alright’. 

…

Draco sat awkwardly on the other end of the couch from Granger. She smiled politely at him. 

“Listen, Granger,” he began, rubbing his legs nervously. 

“You can call me Hermione,” she said, and he smiled gratefully. 

“Hermione, I need to apologize for all the shit I did in school… I want you to know I’m not a fucking blood supremacist…” he paused, fiddling with his fingers. “I always wished to be better than you in classes, my father was outraged that a muggleborn could do better than me, and I know it’s no excuse, but you were always better. Better person, better witch… Just, everything I wished I could be.”

Hermione’s cheeks darkened at the praise, and she seemed surprised by Draco’s speech which was pleasing as she seemed like one to rarely be surprised. 

“Thank you for saying that, Draco, I know that you’re not the same person I thought you were in school, Harry wouldn’t be this mad about you if you were. I can tell you make him happy,” she said, and Draco’s throat tightened. 

“Thank you,” he managed to choke out, and she smiled knowingly at him. 

Hermione opened her mouth to say more but Ron and Harry burst out of the kitchen, arguing about the Cannons game he and Draco had gone to. 

…

“All I’m saying is that if Gibney had been playing, Cannons would’ve won in a heartbeat,” Ron said, gesturing animatedly with his hands. 

Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Draco beat him to the punch. “Yes, the game would definitely have been shorter, but he wouldn’t be able to catch the snitch before Ireland racked up enough points to win, the Cannons keeper can’t stop a quaffle for shit.”

Harry beamed at Draco, so glad that he was having a normal interaction with his best friends. Draco returned his smile shyly, holding his hand and squeezing when Harry began stroking his knuckles with his thumb. 

“He’s got you there,” Harry said to Ron, and the other sighed exaggeratedly. 

“Ron and I should be heading out soon, we were hoping to catch the new documentary...” Hermione continued speaking but Harry was distracted by Ron miming vomiting behind her, and Harry fought to keep a straight face. 

They all stood. “It was nice spending time with you both,” Hermione said, eyes fixed sincerely on Draco, who felt his cheeks heat with pride. 

“You as well,  _ Hermione _ , it’s nice not to have to be the smartest person in the room,” he said, lips twitching as Harry scoffed and Hermione laughed. “Have a lovely evening,” he said sincerely, shaking Ron’s hand. 

“Let me walk you guys out,” Harry said, leading them to the door. 

“Thank you for having us,” Hermione said, pulling Harry into a tight hug, and Harry smiled with a nod. “You seem really good for each other, like you truly care for one another… I’m just so happy you found someone that makes you happy,” she said, pulling back. 

He hugged Ron tightly, so eternally grateful to have such supportive friends. “He’s more than I deserve, ‘Mione, I think I really love him,” he said, and Ron smiled though his ears turned red. 

“I know Harry, and I’m positive he feels the same for you. I hope you both see that.” 

Harry nodded, gazing at his feet. 

“See you soon, mate,” Ron said with a final side hug and they both walked out the door. 

…

Draco cleared the plates and teacups away with magic, sitting heavily on the couch. He could hear them talking in the hallway, and he did his best not to eavesdrop, but his ears couldn’t help but perk up at the words “I think I really love him”. 

Holy fuck. Harry loved him. His heart pounded and his stomach felt like it was going to float away. Fucking fuckiest fuckery fuck. 

Harry walked back into the room, stealing his breath. 

“Hi,” Harry said shyly. 

“You are so lucky you’re adorable,” Draco said, regaining his voice. Harry grinned and sat on the sofa next to him. 

“I am pretty lucky, aren’t I,” he said, smiling from ear to ear, and fuck, he made Draco turn into a gooey pile of mushy feelings. Draco climbed into Harry’s lap, nuzzling into his neck as Harry’s arms automatically wrapping around him. 

…

“Good morning,” Harry said, Draco laying half on top of him with his head on Harry’s chest and he felt a small kiss in his hair. 

“Mmph,” Draco groaned. “Too early,” he mumbled, burrowing deeper into Harry’s chest. Said chest rumbled with quiet laughter and Draco wanted to tell him to stop moving so he could get back to sleep but he had not the energy. 

He sighed again, inhaling Harry’s scent and closing his eyes as fingertips traced shapes on his bare back. 

“I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I forgot to mention, it's looking like there's only one chapter after this so yay! Almost done!


	21. Chapter 21

“I love you.”

The words were out before Harry could stop them, but he wouldn’t take them back for the world. They were finally out, everything was finally on the table, and Draco deserved to know just how happy he made him. 

He almost regretted them when Draco’s body stiffened, no longer lax and loose from sleep, and Harry’s heart rose in his throat. Maybe it was too soon, maybe he didn’t feel the same way… maybe…

Draco’s body was instantly awake as he heard the three words said after a chuckle. Oh fuck. He froze, mind struggling to catch up and slow his pounding heart, every warning in his brain reading “ABORT” and “DANGER” in all caps. 

But when Harry’s body stiffened, he knew he had done something wrong. He sat up from Harry’s chest, eyes searching for the lie or joke that was sure to come, but Harry’s eyes, open and unobstructed by his glasses, were sincere and hopeful, though they quickly grew hurt and closed. 

“Sorry--” Harry started to say, but Draco cut him off with a hand over his mouth. 

“Did you just…?” Draco asked, still looking for the trick because how could this beautiful perfect fun incredible kind strong--(the list goes on)--  _ man _ , want him?. 

But Harry’s eyes were kind, warm and filled with humor and Draco could tell he was fighting off a smile under his hand. Harry nodded and Draco slowly removed his palm from Harry’s mouth, frozen with the need to do so many things at once. 

“Dray?” Harry asked, and the Slytherin was knocked out of his stupor, leaping forward and attacking Harry’s mouth with his own. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled against Harry’s mouth as the other’s arms wrapped around him, stroking up and down his sides and back. “I’m so fucking in love with you,” he murmured in between kisses, most landing on Harry’s lips but some on the cheeks, forehead, and even the tip of his nose. “You daft git,” he muttered and he didn’t know if he was talking more to himself or Harry. 

Harry kissed him back, hands coming up to cup Draco’s face and bring him gently back to his mouth, kissing softly and conveying the words from earlier. 

The kisses grew more heated, more tongue slipping in and exploring the other’s mouth, hands roaming, tugging on hair, moans and gasps filling the quiet morning air. 

Harry’s morning wood poked into Draco’s side, hot and hard, and the Slytherin’s belly tightened with arousal. Everything about Harry, from his eyes to that perfect cock simply radiated the  _ power _ the man had. 

“Harry,” Draco murmured against Harry’s neck, sucking and nipping gently. 

“Mm,” Harry responded, hands reaching down from Draco’s lower back and gripping at his arse. 

“Fuck, Harry, I want you,” Draco breathed against Harry’s mouth, gasping when Harry flipped him so that he was on top, kissing down Draco’s neck and nipping and sucking at purpling marks that were sure to bruise. 

Draco whimpered when teeth closed around the place his neck met his shoulder, and Harry’s answering groan seemed to tighten his pants enormously. 

“I want you to fuck me,” Draco whispered, so quietly that he feared Harry wouldn’t hear it, but the Gryffindor had already released his neck, backing up so that he could look into Draco’s eyes. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, still too far away, and Draco reached out, grasping his shoulders to pull him back once more. 

“Yes, Harry, I want you inside me,” Draco said, and the words combined with the earnest eyes of silver staring into the green depths was too much for Harry, and his heart throbbed in his chest while blood rushed southward. 

He groaned, leaning down to kiss Draco again, softer this time, with less urgency, trying to convey that he would take care of him, that this was more than just pleasure. 

Their hips rolled together, and the feeling was perfect but still  _ not enough _ ; his pants were too constraining as his cock filled. 

“Harry,” Draco mumbled against his mouth, and Harry seized him in another kiss. Harry separated for a moment, to which Draco huffed in annoyance and tried to pull him back in. Harry grinned, placing a placating kiss gently on Draco’s mouth before backing up once more and shedding his pants before tugging on Draco’s waistband. 

Draco obligingly lifted his hips and then they were both gloriously naked, Draco’s wonderful pink cock throbbing and shiny with precum. Harry gave it a few strokes and Draco’s back arched off the bed beautifully, a breathy sigh escaping his lips. 

Draco pulled Harry closer, spreading his legs in clear invitation. “Lube?” he asked, and as soon as the word was out of his mouth, a small tube was zooming straight to Harry’s hand, and  _ Salazar _ , Draco rued the day he wouldn’t find nonverbal wandless magic sexy as fuck. 

Harry kissed him gently, one hand stroking his thigh and approaching his entrance. He glanced up, meeting Draco’s gaze awaiting permission. Draco nodded slightly, biting his lip nervously. 

Harry hesitated at the trepidation written on Draco’s face, but he pulled Harry closer, murmuring, “It’s okay, I want you to.”

Harry slicked his fingers, watching Draco’s face for any signs of pain as he slowly pushed in his index finger to the first knuckle. Draco’s brows raised and his eyes rolled back, mouth agape in a silent ‘o’ of pleasure. 

Harry stayed still for a moment but when Draco’s hips began to move, encouraging him deeper, he pushed his finger in as far as it would go, soon adding a second when Draco seemed ready for it. 

He wiggled his fingers, stretching him open in preparation for his cock, filled and throbbing against his own thigh. His fingers searched deeper, Draco was hot, silky and oh so  _ tight _ around his fingers, and  _ fuck _ , if that wasn’t the best feeling in the world, and suddenly his fingers brushed against something that made Draco cry out and arch off of the bed, panting and writhing beneath Harry’s fingers. 

Harry pulled his fingers out a bit, and Draco’s eyes flashed open, eyes unfocused as he pleaded silently for more. 

As if Harry’s fingers weren’t enough to make his cock throb agonizingly, opening his eyes to see green eyes with dilated pupils, mouth open and panting, as though Harry was getting off on this as much as Draco was. 

Harry pushed his fingers in once more, to  _ that spot _ once more, eyes never leaving Draco’s watching as his eyes rolled back once more and a gasp escaped his lips, hips gyrating on the bed, seeking more more  _ more.  _

When Harry was able to fit a third finger in comfortably, he gently pulled them out, Draco panting with his face and chest a lovely flushed shade. 

Looking up to Draco’s eyes, once again making sure that he hadn’t changed his mind, he began slicking his own cock, the friction too much and nowhere near enough after having felt Draco. Carefully, he lined himself up and slowly began to push in. 

Draco gripped to Harry’s shoulders, biting hard on his lip, trying to keep in the whines and moans that threatened to escape. 

Holy fuck, Draco was  _ so tight _ , there was no way Harry would survive this, but he was happy to die then and there. Draco enveloped him, slick and tight, squeezing his shaft in a heavenly pressure. Harry let out a broken sob when he was finally fully seated, never having been able to imagine such pleasure, the combination of the tight heat enveloping his, Draco’s head tossed back as the air was filled with gasps and pants…

Draco gripped at Harry’s backside when he still hadn’t moved, pulling him in with a murmured, “fuck me.”

Harry slowly pulled out his hips out before carefully thrusting back in, the pace agonizingly slow but so perfect at the same time. Harry could not stop watching Draco, the way small wines and pants would escape every time he slowly thrusted in, arching off the bed to meet his lazy, careful movements. 

This wasn’t fucking, Harry knew. This felt like too much more to be fucking, there was too much emotion in Draco’s eyes, too much reverence in his voice. This wasn’t fucking, this was making love. 

Harry could feel himself approaching climax despite the slow pace, and he fought to maintain the slow pace he had set out, something that was proving to be increasingly difficult. His hips twitched suddenly without his permission, and suddenly Harry could tell he had hit it again as Draco cried out suddenly, gasping and clutching at Harry’s back.

“Fuck,  _ Harry _ ,” he cried out again as Harry aimed for the same place once more, and he could see Draco’s eyes struggle to stay open, striving to watch every minute, and Harry was struck once again by the utter beauty of the man beneath him, golden hair fanned out on the pillow, pink mouth agape with little gasps and moans, a sheen of sweat on his brow, and a look of pure and utter reverence, for Harry of all things, and Harry’s heart swelled and his thrusts quickened. 

Draco was making a steady stream of noises, interspersed with a sling of curses interjected with Harry’s name. His cock was flushed angry and red, and based on his quickening breaths and moans, he was just as close to climax as Harry was. 

Harry’s thrusts quickened even more, desperate to reach his end but his eyes never left Draco’s, words he didn’t even realize were in him spilling out, confessions and overwhelming amounts of love. 

Harry wrapped his hand around Draco’s cock, paying special attention to hitting that spot over and over again while stroking in time with his thrusts, and Draco was lost, spilling into Harry’s hand with a loud cry, tightening impossibly around Harry and with three more rapid thrusts, Harry was gone and over the edge, spilling his load deep into Draco, quivering and panting on top of him. 

He slowly came back, his senses returning to him, Draco’s fingers trailing lightly up and down his spine as he regained his breath.

Eventually, Harry had to pull out, casting a wandless cleaning spell on them both. 

“Fuck, I love you,” Draco mumbled, fingers coming up to toy with Harry’s hair. Harry grinned against Draco’s chest, kissing it lightly. 

“I love you too.”

…

**Epilogue**

They had almost been dating for a year and a half when their second Christmas as lovers rolled around. 

Harry was glad for the change of season, loving long walks in the snow with Draco redoing his heating charms every once in a while so that Harry never got too cold. 

He had accepted the Defense Against the Dark Arts position McGonagall had offered him but he lived with Draco in Grimmauld place, taking the floo to the castle each day. 

They had fallen into a wonderful domesticity, every touch so  _ normal _ , though Harry doubted that Draco would ever fail to make his heart flutter.

They had long decided to not give large gifts, smaller gifts throughout the year were preferable and, cheesy as it was, Harry making breakfast and Draco buying him flowers was greater than any pocket watch or wallet…

But this year was different. Harry had spent money on this gift, but truly it was a gift for them both, so it didn’t fall under the ‘no large gifts’ rule. 

“Harry, Draco!” Hermione cried cheerfully as she opened the door to the Burrow, her stomach large as her firstborn approached its due date. 

“‘Mione,” Harry said with a grin, pulling her into a hug. Draco smiled as well embracing her with a kiss on the cheek. 

“You guys are just in time for dinner, Molly’s outdone herself as usual,” she said, leading them into the dining room where the pair was met with a chorus of Harry’s and Draco’s. 

They smiled and said their hellos, giving a few hugs and pecks here and there, Luna and Ginny linking hands on the table as they said their greetings. 

“Happy Christmas, Harry,” Ron said, pulling him into a large embrace, giving even Mrs. Weasley a run for her money. 

Eventually they were able to all sit and enjoy the feast Molly had made for them all, content to be with his family at last. 

…

“Bye, Molly, thank you so much for everything,” Draco said sporting a new sweater with a D on the front, giving her a warm hug and peck on the cheek. 

“You know you both are always welcome, dears,” she said, patting Draco’s cheek, causing a flushed grin to spread across his face. 

“Love you,” Harry said, holding her close in a familiar embrace before finally leaving with Draco out the door, hand in hand. 

They were joking and laughing, Harry stumbling over his own feet, having a glass of firewhiskey a half hour prior. 

“Salazar, you are such a lightweight, Potter,” Draco said, chuckling fondly. 

Harry rolled his eyes with a grin, elbowing his side. “Alright then, apparate us home Mr. Liver of Steel,” he said. 

Draco laughed, throwing his head back before wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist. “I hate you.”

“I know,” Harry said smugly, just as they were whisked back to Grimmauld Place. 

Harry stumbled slightly when they landed in the sitting room, but he quickly regained his balance. Draco kept a steadying hand on his arm for a moment but dropped it when Harry smiled and was steady enough. 

“Uh oh,” Harry said, fighting back a smirk. 

“What now?” Draco said rolling his eyes, beginning to turn toward the stairs, but Harry caught his hand and pulled him back. He glanced up and Draco’s eyes instinctively followed, catching sight of the plant above their heads. “You are ridiculous, Potter,” he said, rolling his eyes, but as usual, it was accompanied by a smile. 

“I know,” Harry said, pecking Draco’s lips before pulling away, but when Draco huffed in annoyance, he chuckled and allowed Draco to pull him back in, his hands tangling in the blonde’s hair as Draco’s hands trailed down to Harry’s chest. 

“What say you fuck me into the New Year,” Draco murmured, breath tickling Harry’s ear before nipping down on the lobe. 

Harry moaned, a shiver running down his spine from the small bite. “I’d say that sounds like your best idea yet, but I have to do something first.”

Draco pulled back, confusion and disappointment clouding his face, but this quickly transformed to shock as Harry knelt to one knee, pulling out the box that had been in his pocket. 

“Draco Malfoy, you are a pain in the arse, insufferable, and a git, and dear god, I have loved every minute of being with you. You’re  _ my _ pain in the arse, and I wouldn’t change a hair on your head. You make life interesting and fun, and honestly couldn’t imagine my life without you in it. Will you spend the rest of our lives with me?” 

Draco was shaking his head, laughing wetly before pulling Harry to his feet and kissing him hard on the mouth. 

“Fuck, Harry, yes,  _ yes _ !”


End file.
